V:tM Bloodlines - Turning Teeth
by thebrillaintgrandmaster
Summary: Algernon Blake was your average writer trying to make it big in Hollywood. But after a one-night stand, he's pulled into a Byzantine world of intrigue and manipulation among the undead. Can Algernon retain his humanity while satisfying the beast that rests within? A retelling of Vampire: the Masquerade Bloodlines with a male Tremere. Minor story differences.
1. Embrace 1-1

_**May 23rd, 2004. Santa Monica, California. 9:15 PM.**_

"You know, when people walk in here, they're often too freaked out to stay."

I looked up from my book to see a woman had said that to me. Other than her and I, there was only the ghoulish-looking cashier who was staring at a television that seemed to be playing Betty Boop. The woman that had straddled the line between "goth" and "nerdy". Her hair was straight and black, her bangs parting at her forehead and the length falling down to her shoulders. Her dress was somewhere between gypsy and witchy, clad in a burgundy sundress that parted at her midriff, leaving her pierced belly button exposed. She had on a necklace with a weird symbol on it, something like a neopagan sigil, or a rune.

She looked mousy, but not in a bad way. Her features kind of reminded me of Velma from Scooby Doo: angular yet soft, not plain and very pretty in her own right, but not exactly in the way that you'd expect from a girl in California. She wasn't a movie star, she was more like a girl next door. If anything, that made her more interesting in my book. Too many airheads in town were _only_ their looks, but I could see a strange intelligence in her eyes. It was as if she could look right through me.

I realized I was standing.

"U-Um...yeah! I was never easily spooked." I said quickly, embarrassed that I was stammering.

The woman chuckled. It was a musical, airy sound. "You don't look like the type that'd be here, though."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

She pursed her lips, her eyes scanning me. Yet again, I got the sense that she was looking _through_ me, as opposed to _at_ me.

"Well," She said. "For one, your hair is _naturally_ black, and it isn't some bad dye job."

I laughed at that.

"And…" She continued. "No excess of black. You look like an artist, actually. Let me guess...photographer? No. Writer."

I raised my eyebrows. "Guilty as charged. You a mind reader?"

"No, I just like watching people."

"Same here, actually. I watch people so I can better write them. It makes it easier to describe mannerisms and the like. Features. The little things?"

She tilted her head and smiled. "Yeah? How would you describe my features?"

I rubbed my chin, feeling my stubble and squinting at her slightly. "Well...let's see...you give off a bit of a goth vibe. But not industrial goth...more traditionally goth. Witchy, even. Angular features...sharp chin, high cheekbones. Almost classically pretty."

"So you think I'm pretty." She said, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckled. "That's what I said, didn't I?"

"A writer _and_ a flirt. So far you're quite a step above the usual guy that walks in here."

"The usual guy?"

Just then, I heard a bell ringing as two people came in. Both were male, and both, I had been pretty sure, were wearing white foundation, which somehow made them even paler than the girl I was talking to, who was about as pale as a corpse herself. Their hair was dyed asphalt black and had been styled into spikes, and their faces had enough piercings to set off a metal detector.

"_That_ is the usual guy." The woman said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Only a _step_ above the likes of him? You wound me."

She smiled. "I'm Justine."

"Algernon." I said. "Want to get out of here?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Justine said.

Of course, what I meant by "out of here" was, "to my apartment". It seemed she'd gotten the memo rather quickly. The moment we'd gotten into the taxi, we were making out in the back seat. Something was different from her, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. Was it the raw and overwhelming passion that engulfed me when she kissed me? Was it her hypnotic green eyes, or the conviction with which she spoke? I don't know exactly what it was that gave me such a deep, lizard-brain level attraction to this woman. All I knew was that it was enough to get me to do things I'd never do normally, like pick up a random girl at a bookstore.

Once I had her in my hotel room, I dropped the thin veneer of control that I'd put up. I pressed my lips to hers in a hungry, fiery dance and she replied with just as much passion. With surprising strength, she tore open my shirt, but I didn't care. I didn't even care when she pushed me onto the bed with the strength of a guy that would be twice her size. Indeed, before I could care, she was on top of me. We kissed, our tongues doing something between dancing together and fighting for dominance.

Then she parted from me, whispering in my ear, "Let me show you something."

Her voice sent shivers down my spine. I happily complied as she pushed my head to the side. I assumed she was going to kiss my neck.

That isn't what she did.

That isn't what she did _at all._

There was a sharp, painful sensation that made me tense up and scream. And then there was pure bliss. That's the best way I could describe it. It was a pure, all-encompassing ecstasy that paralyzed me, better than any orgasm I'd ever experienced in my life. I lost all track of time, feeling my vision blur and my control of my limbs slip. I had relaxed at this point, and I couldn't make it stop. I didn't _want_ to make it stop. I pursued the feeling like an addict going after his fix. And as I pursued the feeling, I felt myself slip more and more.

Soon, I felt cold. I realized my breathing had gone shallow. My vision had blurred to the point where I couldn't see anything. I was dying, I realized, but I didn't care. The bliss was too overwhelming, clouding my every thought. It ignited my ever cell until they fizzled out and died. I was only marginally aware of Justine's presence, her fangs lodged into my flesh as crimson spilled from my neck. Was that my blood? Was she _drinking_ my blood…?

Couldn't think. Pain was gone. Breathing grew even more and more shallow, until I wasn't breathing anymore. I felt my heart stop and grow cold. I felt my limbs go dead...and then I felt nothing.

It was funny. I always thought that I'd die in some horribly tragic way, like a car crash or an assassin sent by a hypothetical ex-wife. I didn't know some goth chick I'd picked up from an independent bookstore was going to bite in my neck and, well, _drink_ me to death. I also underestimated how long my thoughts would be running. How long had I been out? The entire world must've gone black at least ten or fifteen minutes ago. Was this the afterlife? Just an endless, formless blackness with nothing but my thoughts?

_God, just send me to Hell instead._ I thought to myself.

Then, another feeling came to me. Pure ecstasy, but instead of the numbing, narcotic feeling of before, it was a jolt, a burst of energy through my cold body. It was like an orgasm, only a thousand times as powerful and a hundred times shorter. I bolted up and saw that I was now alone in my bed. I'd been dressed again in my black tee shirt and jeans. I looked around and saw Justine sitting on the loveseat across from my bed, now significantly more dressed than she was minutes ago. One of her legs were crossed over the other, and she looked at me with an unreadable expression. It was strange; with how pale she was, one could easily mistake her for a posed corpse, or a statue.

I felt strange, as if I'd just taken a dip in cold water and was now completely numb. I felt the clothes on my skin, but I didn't feel the temperature in the room. And I sensed..._everything._ I could hear a couple whispering to each other outside. I could smell cigarette smoke coming from the apartment across the hall. I could taste...was that copper? No. It was blood, specifically. But it had an array of other tastes, everything from wine to chocolate. How was that possible? The strangest feeling of all, however, was a deep _growling_ within me. It was a hunger, and if I focused on it, it became more intense. What was that? What happened to me?

"Whatever it is we did…" I mumbled. "It must've been some good shit."

"About that…" Justine said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. "I've got good news. Or bad news. It depends on your perspective, really."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

The woman from the bookstore sighed. "Well-"

Before she could say anything at all, my door was kicked open. I saw two guys I didn't recognize barge in, both holding honest-to-god wooden stakes. Before I could even question them, one of them threw the stake at Justine, sticking her right in the heart. I tried to get up to defend myself, but the other guy quickly stabbed me in the heart after that. My body went limp, and for the second time that night, everything went dark. 

* * *

"Good evening."

The sound of a voice brought me back from the blackness. When my eyes opened, I found myself on the stage of the theater in Downtown, bound with chains and gagged on my knees. Next to me a couple of feet over was Justine, and she was in exactly the same position, except there was another guy behind her holding her down. Between us was some massive Magilla Gorilla-looking man, holding - I swear to God - a Final Fantasy-esque buster sword. Standing in front of us was some pale, rich-looking guy wearing a black suit and tie, his blonde hair neatly combed over. He'd been the one talking, speaking to a crowd full of people I'd never seen before, as if he were a senator that was filibustering.

"My fellow Kindred," He continued, "my apologies for interfering in any business, or any prior engagements you may have had this evening. It's unfortunate that the affair that gathers us together here tonight is a troubling one. We are here because the laws that bind our society, the laws that are the fabric of our existence have been broken. As Prince, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindred of this city the privilege of siring.

"Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have endorsed some of these requests; however, the accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission. Indeed, my permission was never sought at all. They were caught shortly after the embrace of this childe."

All gazes in the room turned to me.

"It pains me to announce this sentence as, up until tonight, I'd considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our organization." The guy in the suit continued. "But as some of you may know, the penalty for this transgression...is death. Know that I am no more a judicator than I am a servant to the law that governs us all.

"Let tonight's proceedings serve as a reminder to our community that we _must_ adhere to the code that binds our society, lest we endanger all of our blood."

He turned and crouched down to Justine, whispering, "Forgive me."

Then he stood and turned back to the crowd, saying, "Let the penalty commence."

The guy holding Justine down pushed her forward, that way her neck was sticking out and she was forced to look down. The gorilla man grabbed the shaft of his sword and unsheathed it from its massive scabbard, placing the blade on her neck like an executioner. The theater was dead silent as, in a fluid, fell swoop, the blade cut through Justine's neck like butter. Instead of Justine's body doing what a normal corpse does - that is, fall down like a ragdoll - her flesh turned to ash right before my very eyes, leaving nothing but a blackened skeleton.

And _that_ set off the gibbering monkey in my brain. I began to scream, but the gag muffled any noise I'd made. I tried to squirm, to escape, but the same guy that stabbed me in my heart in the apartment held me down with strength he frankly had no _business_ having. I saw some people in the crowd looking back, as if the beheading of my one-night stand disturbed them. It was funny, considering they're the ones that put her on a blatantly unfair trial.

Despite my panicked noises, the guy in the suit continued, "Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny. Without a sire, most childer are doomed to walk the earth never knowing their place, their responsibility...and most importantly, the laws they must obey. Therefore, I have decided that-"

"This is bullshit!" A voice cried out from the audience, making the theater erupt into murmurs. I saw a man standing from his seat, his sneer large enough to be visible from several yards away and his eyes glaring daggers at the man in the suit. Two thuggish-looking people were holding him back, one a smaller girl with bright red hair and the other a tall, bald black guy that could frankly give Magilla Gorilla a run for his money.

More people stood up as the audience's murmurs grew louder, becoming complaints and heckles. Many took his side. I was just wondering what the hell was going on.

The man in the suit waited for everyone to quiet down. His expression was annoyed, as if someone had just stepped on his thousand dollar leather shoes. "...If Mr. Rodriguez would let me finish, I have _decided_ to let this kindred live."

With that, the guy that was holding me down released me from my chains, but he didn't ungag me. That probably had something to do with my screaming, which had quieted down due to how raw my throat now felt. Once I was fully quiet, he ungagged me.

"He shall be instructed on the ways of our kind and be granted the same rights." The suit-clad man said, though he didn't exactly sound happy about what he was saying. "Let no one say I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community. I thank you all for attending these proceedings, and I _hope_ their significance is not lost…good evening." 

* * *

**A/N:** It's been a while since I've published anything here! This is my new story, based on a game called _Vampire: the Masquerade - Bloodlines._ Here I'll essentially be retelling the game's story with a few tweaks here and there to give it my personal twist. I made this first person unlike my other story because I actually wanted to make this more like a personal account, so that you can see what happens when a perfectly normal guy becomes a monster.

Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated.


	2. Embrace 1-2

Everyone left the theater after the man in the suit dismissed them. One by one, the unusually pale people walked out of the door and into the night. I wasn't allowed to leave quite yet. The gorilla stayed, as did the man in the suit, which didn't exactly make me feel safe. Yes, he said that I would live, but what if he changed his mind? What was keeping him from having Frankenstein's Monster over there from slicing me in half? I didn't trust him. I didn't trust anyone. But at least he allowed me to stand up.

I barely registered his words as I saw Justine's bare skeleton lay on the ground. Just what the hell was going on? I may have dropped out of medical school, but I knew dead bodies didn't do _that._ It felt like I was pulled into another world, a world that was familiar to me yet strange and new at the same time. Worst of all, I still felt that nagging hunger within. It wasn't in the pit of my stomach, no. It wasn't like I wanted to eat. It was something different, something deep within that transcended the physical. It was a raw, constant _need_ in the back of my mind, and it was only getting louder and louder as time went on.

"...am Sebastian LaCroix, and I will be your Prince from here on out." I heard the man in the suit say once I'd managed to quiet the hunger. He followed my gaze and saw that I was looking at Justine's skeleton. It was...sad in a way. It wasn't that I was in love with her or something, but there was still something morbid about seeing a girl you'd been physically intimate with suddenly being beheaded right in front of you.

"What the fuck…" I muttered."

"Your Sire...tragic. My apologies. But you see, there is a strict code of conduct that all of us must...must adhere to if we wish to survive." LaCroix said. He and the larger guy advanced to the back of the theater, walking down to the back of the stage. I'd gotten the sense that I should follow, so I did.

"When someone - anyone - breaks these laws," LaCroix continued, "They undermine the well-worn fabric of our centuries old society. Understand my predicament."

"Predicament?" I asked. "What predicament?"

"Allowing you to live makes me directly responsible for your subsequent behavior." LaCroix answered. "So, what I'm offering is not generosity, but the opportunity to transcend the fate woven by your Sire."

"Ah. Very kind of you." I deadpanned.

LaCroix ignored my sarcasm. "_This_ is your trial. You will be brought to Santa Monica. There, you will meet an agent by the name of Mercurio. He will provide the details of your labor."

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I got a trial, then? Why didn't Justine? And why was my trial being an errand boy as opposed to, you know, an actual trial? All of these questions were on my lips, but I didn't speak them. I had a feeling that LaCroix was less listening _to_ me and more listening to himself speak because he enjoyed hearing his own voice. I wasn't going to get any further answers from him.

"I've shown you great clemency." LaCroix urged. "Prove it was more than a wasted gesture, fledgeling. Don't come back until you do. Good evening."

With that, LaCroix and his massive henchman walked out of the exit door, with his henchman having to duck before he was able to walk through. It was amusing enough until I was alone. And I was _truly_ alone. There wasn't a soul in that building but myself, nobody to explain what had happened to me and what was going on. The questions I had were the same as before, and yet I felt no closer to figuring out the answers than I was. I still felt cold. Dead, almost. Yet I felt more alive than I ever had before. More powerful, stronger, faster. If I focused, I could hear everything, feel and smell _everything._

Justine was going to explain, wasn't she? What she had done to me? The last thing I remembered was euphoria, then death. I remembered waking up and seeing her sit on the couch. She was staked in the heart before she could explain anything. What was the deal with the stakes anyway? I know they got me too, but there wasn't a wound anymore, just a hole in my tee shirt, which was now stained with blood. Why had they staked me?

Let's see...stake in the heart...me blacking out…

I widened my eyes.

Oh no.

Oh _God_ no.

Scared and confused, I walked outside, down the short stairway that led into the back alley. As soon as I walked out, I heard jolly laughing from someone who had been standing against the wall. I turned my gaze to see what looked like a member of a biker gang looking at me and laughing as if I'd said the funniest joke in the century. He was shorter than me, but that didn't make him look any less tough or dangerous. He wore washed out and worn denim jeans and _just_ a leather vest with no shirt underneath, which was odd since it was a pretty chilly night. Despite being older than me, he was certainly more muscular, and he had long, black hair, brown eyes, and a full beard that made him look like some kind of biker Jesus. I'd seen his type at rundown bars in Santa Monica. I usually stayed away.

"What a scene, man!" The man jeered. "_Hoo-wee. _Then they just plop ya out here like a naked baby in the woods. How 'bout that?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah, it's uh...quite something. Seeing your one night stand get beheaded and all."

Finally, the biker guy stopped laughing. His expression sobered. "Ah...look, kiddo, this is probably a lot for you to take in, so uh, why don't you let me show you the ropes. Whaddya say?"

I decided I'd ask the obvious question first. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jack." He replied. "What's important is I'm offering help. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life stories, m'kay? 'Till then, I have about…" - he held up his hand, creating a small space between his pointer and thumb finger - "_this_ much time. You in or out?"

This was the nicest anyone had been to me so far. I figured I'd be stupid to turn it down.

"Yeah." I said. "Okay. I could use the help."

"Alright." Jack said. "First of all, are you good?"

I shrugged. I wasn't good, I wasn't good at all. But I wasn't about to sob on the shoulder of some stranger I'd met in an alleyway. "I like it where I am. At least I'm out of that theater."

"Christ, it's stuffy in there, huh? This is much better." Jack said. "Now, we ain't got much time but I figure somebody should fill you in on the bare bones stuff at least, ya know. Could save your hide."

I nodded. Before I could say anything, the hunger nagged at the back of my mind again. I felt weak, but not like I'm about to collapse, but rather that I was slowly losing control of something. It was like there was a whole part of me that I'd caged, and it was bending the metal bars to get out. I don't know what gave me this impression, but I strongly felt like I should make an effort to keep it in its cage.

"You look wobbly; you even have a drink yet?" Jack asked, his tone a little concerned.

"Drink of what?" I managed. "I'm not thirsty."

Once again, Jack's expression became amused. "Oh, man! We're poppin' a cherry here! Oh, you're gonna love this."

I frowned.

Jack laughed. "Alright, check it out. Blood: it's your new rack o' lamb. Your new champagne - blood's your new fuckin' heroin, kid."

My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, which made Jack laugh more. Blood? No, this was just confirming my earlier, irrational fear. Don't tell me I'd turned into… No, there was no way. He had to be fucking with me.

"Get ready though, 'cuz, hey, it's never as sweet as the first time." Jack continued.

"You make it sound like sex." I muttered. "That's...very fucked up and morbid, dude."

Jack shrugged. "It's a lil' bit like that. Better, even. So much better that you're not even gonna want some tail after that. You'll realize no matter what broad you find, her pussy ain't gonna be nearly as sweet as her blood."

I shuddered at that. "Oh my God. You're not fucking with me, are you?"

He chuckled. "Not in the fuckin' slightest, kiddo."

"I-I'm a…"

"Vampire." He said. "A creature of the night. I'll explain more 'a that shit later. Now, we need to get you a drink."

I looked down at my hands, then back up at Jack. "Well, what do I...how do I…?"

"Well, down around the corner there, I saw this human. Poor S.O.B can't find his car." Jack informed me, smirking wickedly.

"I mean how do I…? What do I even do?" I asked.

"Alright," Jack said. "You go down there - casual like - ya creep up on him, then bare those little fangs and feed. Don't worry if you weren't captain of the wrestling team or somethin', cuz it'll come so naturally you'll think you'd done it a thousand times already."

I frowned. "Won't he become a vampire then?"

Jack burst out laughing. "Forget that comic book crap, kid. Don't work that way."

Suddenly, I felt very stupid.

"Now go for it. Be sure though - and this is important so listen up - be sure not to drain him dry, okay? Might be hard to resist, but don't kill him."

Well, at least I wasn't committing homicide. I was only committing a gross violation of nature's laws on God's green earth.

"Alright." I said, accepting my grim deed. "I'll be right back."

I walked down the alleyway and turned a corner to the right, which led to a lot. When a lot of people saw Downtown L.A on TV, they often saw the tall buildings, the pretty blondes walking the streets, and the colorful storefronts. What the movies never showed you are the worn-down, dilapidated buildings, the trash scattered about, and potholes that were omnipresent outside of Main Street. The lot I was in was one of those places that the TV never showed you. A man stood there alone, clearly panicked and scared. He looked like the type that wouldn't even step out of his gated community, much less an abandoned parking lot on Sunnyland Avenue.

Alone. Panicked. That's what he was. It would be easy. So easy to bash his skull open and drink the contents within. I could hang him by a meat hook, bleed him like a little piggy while he was alive, squirming and screaming as his entrails spilled out of his stomach. What could he do to stop me? Nothing. He'd try to fight back, but I was stronger, faster. I could-

Oh god. Where did _that_ come from?

I shuddered as that creeping hunger began to expand, encompassing more of my thoughts, engulfing me in its urges. I advanced forward and approached the man. Once I approached, he looked at me like a deer in headlights, two bright, blue orbs gazing at me. I didn't blame him. On a night like this, _alone? _I could be the guy that stole his car, for all he knew.

"C-Can I help you?" He stuttered as I approached.

I could smell him. He smelled nice. I could hear his heart beating, the rush of blood in his veins. It would be easy. _So _easy.

I stepped closer, and he backed away. He muttered, gibbered things under his breath that I couldn't understand. It was fear, and it smelled _delicious._ Now he was backed against a corner. I was much taller than him, much bigger. He was small, scared, like a wounded rabbit. With nowhere else to go, and backed into a corner, he tried to throw a punch.

I caught it. He was _so_ slow. What was that supposed to be?

I pulled him in, grabbed the side of his head and pushed it to the side. Intuitively, I knew what to do. I opened my mouth, feeling my fangs elongate, turn into sharp needles to pierce flesh. I bit into his neck and, oh god, it was _wonderful._ It was something beyond anything I'd ever felt before, a climbing euphoria. The taste...my god the _taste. _It was everything I'd ever wanted in a drink, all of the flavors I love mixed together: sweet, bitter, just enough tart to keep me longing for more. As I sucked his blood, I felt the primal, roaring urges within me engulf every fiber of my being. It was like I was one with that part of me, that beast that always lurked in the back of my mind, giving me invasive thoughts, only given form when I became undead.

The experience was undeniably erotic. Which was a little weird, because I was feeding off of some rich guy in an empty lot. But I didn't care. I _couldn't_ care, it's like I had taken him on a dance, and he was helpless to stop me. His entire body relaxed, and I heard the blood rush out of the wound. But I knew...I don't know how, but somehow I _knew_ that if I continued like this, I'd drain him dry. I'd kill him. But I couldn't pull back. I didn't _want_ to pull back. I had to. I couldn't kill him. Jack told me not to kill him.

It was legitimately the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It was harder than the gymnastics competition I'd done back in High School. Harder than the national spelling bee back in middle school. It was harder than lying to my parents, or talking to a woman that seems unapproachable. But regardless of how hard it was, I forced myself back, pushing the man away and making him collapse against the wall. His eyes were glazed over, and he looked extremely relaxed, as if he'd had an orgasm or he was doped up on heroin. I got on a knee to check his pulse. His heart was beating slowly as if he was on some opiate...but it _was_ beating nonetheless.

I wiped my chin. It was stained with blood, as was my shirt. Fuck. I licked my fingers, shuddering at the ghost of a taste. It tasted so good, in fact, that I licked my fingers clean.

Jack was right. That _was_ better than sex. Better than anything I'd ever felt in my entire life. And that _scared_ me. It scared me that, as the man sat against that corner, dazed and confused, I felt no remorse. It scared me that I wanted to do it again and again for all eternity. Was this my life now? Was I doomed to walk the earth, feeding from people? Is that what Justine had done to me? How did she make me a vampire, then, if this wasn't how? I still had so many questions. Hopefully Jack would provide.

After I was done with my post-orgasm (post-feeding?) clarity, I walked back to Jack.

"Yeah…" Jack said as I approached, peering straight into my eyes. "Ah yeah. Hell yeah, you're feelin' it. I can see it in your eyes - you're a born-again predator. Feelin' that blood bubblin' inside you, liftin' you up. That's it, kid, that's what it's all about right there."

"I…" My voice was raw. I cleared my throat. "I don't know how I feel about it, but it does feel good."

"Alright now, you got the blood, you're feelin' all kickass, feelin' better than your best day livin' - but wait! It gets better!" He said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Really now? Vampirism is just the gift that keeps on giving, isn't it?"

Jack chuckled. "Hell yeah, kiddo. But all kindred...er, Kindred, that's uh, our word for vampire...all Kindred have a few things in common. Things that set them right square above humans on the food chain."

"Oh? Like?"

"Like sharper senses, a body that can take a beating, and, if you play your cards right, eternal life. That's no sure bet, but still, a chance at immortality is not a bad deal."

I didn't know how I felt about that one. Immortality. I thought about what I did to the man in the lot, the way my thoughts directed me to hurt him, the way my urges direct me to help others. An eternity of that? It was unthinkable. Hopefully that 'immortality' thing is optional.

"Harder, better, faster, stronger." I said. "Got it. Anything else?"

"Well, that's just for starters." Jack said. "Fringe benefits for joinin' the club."

"Not bad, far as welcoming packages go." I said. "So...I'm going to live forever…?"

"Well, you can still be destroyed." Jack replied. "But forget the books and the movies. Garlic? It's worthless. A cross? _Pfft,_ shove it right up their ass."

"Shots fired at Bram Stoker." I replied. "What about stakes? Those guys barged into my apartment and got me, then everything went black."

"Only a problem if it catches you in the heart, and then it just paralyzes you."

"Alright...uh, what about running water?"

"Not a problem. I bathe...eh, occasionally."

I cringed. "Alright, dude. What _can_ hurt me?"

"Well, shotguns are a problem for us, 'specially to the head."

"Glad to see _that_ hasn't changed."

"Fire is also _real_ trouble. Can't stress that one enough, kiddo. Not only will it hurt ya, it'll fuck with your mind."

I nodded. "No fire. How about…?" I gestured up at the sky.

"Sunlight? Well, you catch a sunrise and it's all over, kiddo - got it?"

"Got it." I said. "I didn't really do much going outside anyway."

"Okay, now…"

Before Jack could say anything else, a loud explosion shook the entire world. I wasn't expecting to become a vampire tonight, but I was expecting even _less_ to be at the forefront of some international incident. I frowned and looked in the direction of the explosion, as did Jack.

"What the fuck is this?" He growled.

I heard howling and gunshots - automatic fire. L.A. was no stranger to gang violence, but this was a little much. Usually all I heard at night were a few gunshots from pistols or peashooters. This sounded like full on warfare.

"Look, you get inside here and head upstairs." Jack said, pointing at the metal door behind him. "We'll meet up in a bit. I'm just gonna go see what the ruckus is."

I frowned. "What the fuck could that be? Sounds like a war."

"If it is what I think it is, kiddo…" Jack mused. "It just might fuckin' be a war." 

* * *

**A/N: **The beginning of the tutorial! As you can see, I'm only doing a little bit of variation from the dialogue options. Just putting a few touches here and there so that it's less like a silent protagonist and more like an actual person. That being said, I will be switching it up a bit more as the story goes on. Just for now, there won't be too much straying from what you might have experienced in the game.

Thanks for reading! Reviews and feedback are appreciated.


	3. Embrace 1-3

I walked through the door into what looked like some kind of abandoned garage. Trash was scattered all over the floor, and on the other side of the room was a rusted old yellow car that had the tires taken off of their rusted frames. Behind the car were piles of boxes stacked as high up as the second floor, which was separated by a metal railing. I climbed up the boxes, which wasn't too hard due to them being packed full for some reason. It looked like whatever business had moved out was still packing. Once I got to the top, I saw a conveniently placed Swiss army tool. I figured if I was going to be a badass creature of the night, having a lockpick on my person wouldn't hurt.

I walked down the metal platform and turned left, seeing Jack looking out of the window. I wondered how he even got there without me seeing him, and even _faster_ than I did. At some point, I would have to ask him how he did that and, more importantly, if _I _could do that.

"Come down here." He whispered. "Stay away from the window!"

I raised an eyebrow. "You're right in front of the window, though-"

"C'mon, kid." He said, waving me over.

I walked to him, standing in front of the window.

"Shit." Jack hissed. "It's a Sabbat raid."

"Sabbat? I asked.

"Yeah, the Sabbat. They're uh… Eh, Christ, I was hopin' to spare you this shit 'till later." He muttered.

I frowned. "Is it that complicated? What is a Sabbat?"

"Uh...the Sabbat… well, eh, they're mostly mindless bloodthirsty assholes - that's all you need to know for now, alright?"

I nodded. I had a feeling there was a lot more to the story than that, but Jack proved to be a pretty upstanding guy so far; well, if you ignore him encouraging me to drink blood. I trusted his word and would act accordingly. It wasn't like them shooting and howling outside did anything to disprove what he was saying.

"Got it. So, what's up with the World War 2 reenactment outside?" I asked.

"The Sabbat got wind of the gathering here, so they figured they'd raise a little hell and put a little heat on the new 'prince'." Jack explained.

"Right. About that…" I said. "What's the prince a prince of? Looked no different from any local politician to me. If not a lot younger."

"No time for political rundown." Jack replied. "Job one? Get outta here alive. Sabbat might be mindless, but they hit like a Mack truck, like raging savages - nothing a fledgeling like you wants to mess with."

Politics. Of course. It was always something I tried to stay away from in life, but it must've been some cruel joke that my death would include politics too.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked.

Jack was going to answer, but then he put a hand over my chest and backed me away from the window, saying, "_Shh._ Heads up, back away."

I did as he said, but still kept looking through the window. I saw two thugs walk into the alley, each toting an honest-to-god AK-47, dressed in what pretty much amounted to rags. Someone else ran into the alley after them, and he looked...well, not human in the slightest. His skin was ash gray and his hair was stringy. I could see his glowing red eyes from here, and his arms were a yard long each, with both hands sporting long talons. He looked more like a beast than a vampire. He even howled as he entered.

LaCroix's bodyguard walked into the alleyway from the other side, his stride confident as if he'd done this a thousand times before. One of the thugs began shooting their AK into the air while howling, which was a stupid strategy as it didn't even make LaCroix's bodyguard flinch. I guess Jack called them "mindless" for a reason. Then they finally turned their guns on the bodyguard and began shooting, apparently relying on the "spray and pray" method. The bullets all either missed or the bodyguard just _ate_ them. It was the craziest thing I'd ever seen. He didn't even flinch as he took the bullets.

Silently, he held out his hand, a blue light engulfing his palm. As the thugs shot, I saw two wolf-shaped beings come from absolutely nowhere, their visages engulfed in a ghostly blue light. Despite their ethereal appearance, they were apparently solid enough to tackle the thugs to the ground and bite their heads off, causing them to burst into dust on contact. The bestial-looking one looked back and saw his backup was gone. Instead of doing what any smart person would do - the smart thing being running away - he decided to charge straight at LaCroix's bodyguard, teeth bared and claws out.

The bodyguard didn't even flinch. He did a quick gesture with his hand, the blue light engulfing it yet again. A swarm of either hornets or locusts came out of nowhere, sweeping across the alley and stopping the bestial-looking vampire dead in his tracks. He tried to swat at the insects, but they literally ate at his skin. Eventually, the damage must've been too much, because he turned to dust too.

_Holy fuck._ I thought. The bodyguard took down those guys without even moving an inch! He didn't even unsheathe that huge ass sword he had. He just did a few gestures and summoned animals to kill them. The bodyguard had a neutral expression as he turned his head, gazing directly up at me before turning around and walking back where he came from.

"Holy fuck…" I mumbled, breathless. "That's...that was magic."

"Dumb frenzied Sabbat bastards." Jack growled, turning to me. "Alright. We gotta vamoose out the back, quick. I'll stay and keep a watch out; you get us into the office. The door's around the corner here."

I reached into my pocket and grabbed my brand new Swiss army tool. I popped out the lockpick.

"On it." I said.

The lock on the door was cheap and old, so it was stupidly easy to pick. After a few seconds of picking at the lock, I managed to crack it. I opened the door and, to my amazement, Jack was already there, standing by the window. My expression must've been quite something as I entered, because he laughed once he saw me.

"How did you-"

"Uh...shortcut." He said.

I frowned. "First summoning animals, then teleportation? When will I be able to do all that?"

"Maybe soon, maybe never." Jack said. "It depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Depends on a lotta things, kid. But we gotta fuckin' amscray, if you know what I mean. Nicely done with the lock, tough. Not exactly an angel in life, were you?"

I shrugged. "Are any of us, really? I had my moments."

Jack nodded firmly. "Cool. Now, if you want a lesson on how really not to act, take notes from those Sabbat assholes. You're a big bad vampire - yeah, great, congrats… now keep it to yourself. You go roar and beat your chest and...that's what you can expect."

"Wait! I still got that list of people from high school! Why not?"

"Same reason you don't let humans see you feeding. It's why the wolf doesn't want the sheep to know he's there." Jack explained. "It's also why you don't go jugglin' dumpsters or outrun the 8:15 from Sacramento, and it's...and it's why you didn't know any of this when you woke up this morning."

I nodded. I was beginning to understand. "Ah. I get it. Keep the herd ignorant."

Jack nodded knowingly. "Keep our secret secret and you make things easier on all of us. We're livin' in the age of cell phone cameras… fuck-ups ain't tolerated. Makes sense enough, right? Well, it ain't a casual thing for a fledgeling like you."

Tilting my head, I frowned. I was beginning to not like how everyone was calling me a _fledgeling._ "What do you mean? What could happen?"

"That party back there, with the guy in the suit and the Magilla Gorilla? The assholes that put Justine to death?"

I raised an eyebrow. He knew Justine?

"That's the Camarilla." Jack continued, making a _hmph_ sound in distaste. "They make a tidy business out of enforcing 'vampire laws' like this one."

I nodded. "That's...nothing like the movies at all."

"Hell no it ain't." Jack said. "Do half the shit they do in the movies, you'll see your head removed from your body, pronto."

"So...the Camarilla? They're like the vampire 'good guys'?" I asked. If so, "Camarilla" was an awfully insidious name for them. I'd just chalk that up to PR issues.

"_Mmph. _Yeah, I'll tell you what I think some other time, maybe." Jack said. "I like to let people form their own opinions."

_Not everyone likes the Camarilla. Noted._ I thought.

"Alright, so what's next?" I asked.

"Alright, now don't worry, cuz I know the area a little - and you know what? I'm glad we're in this situation, you and I." Jack said, his jolly tone returning. "It illustrates a point...you gotta utilize your surroundings."

My lips pressed into a thin line. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning ya do what ya gotta do." Jack said simply. "Theft, destruction of property, breaking and entering. Heh, these'll be the least of your sins before the night's out."

I nodded. "Didn't think I'd exactly be an upstanding member of society, what with the arterie-sucking and all."

"Look around here." Jack told me. "We gotta get out the back through that magnetically sealed door. There must be a key someplace."

I looked around and saw a computer, which probably controlled the door. I smirked to myself, muttering, "Leet." Before walking to it.

The monitor was only asleep, which means I could at least save time by not having to boot the thing up. The first thing I did was check to see if the computer had internet access, which it thankfully did. I opened up a website that I'd learned about from one of my programmer friends and downloaded a hacking tool. It would take a few moments before it was installed.

"What are you doin', kid?" Jack asked.

"I'm going to try to see if I can bypass the passwords in this computer and open that safe. Guessing the key is in there." I said.

"You millennials and your computers." Jack muttered. "Can't get the damn things to work half the time."

I glanced at him, then I heard a 'beep' as the hacking tool downloaded. I went to the program that controlled the safe lock and began to run it, using the tool to change the code. "Whatever happened to utilizing your surroundings?"

Jack smirked. "Shove it up yer ass, kid. Besides…"

He walked to the safe, grabbing a notepad that hung above it. He bought it to my face, and it said, in clear letters: _Password: ChopShop._

"Part of utilizing your surroundings is looking around." He said.

I felt incredibly stupid. Before I could come up with a retort to preserve my pride, I heard a beep from the hacking tool I'd downloaded. I was in.

"Yeah, well…" I muttered. "I'm in now."

I typed in a key command, _unlock_. I heard a sound come from the safe and I opened it, taking out the key card.

"There we go." Jack said. "Take that key card and head out back. I'll meet you out in the alley there. I'm gonna check out things from topside."

I nodded. "Got it."

Using the key card, I walked out of the door and down the metal staircase that led to the alleyway out back. As soon as I opened the metal door at the bottom, I heard gunshots pelting against it. Quickly, I took cover behind it, only peeking to see what was going on. The Sabbat thugs were firing like utter lunatics, seeming to care not for things like collateral damage. I was stuck. Then, Jack dropped down from the nearby rooftop, landing without a single issue. He landed behind one of the thugs and snapped his neck, then stabbing him with a knife and lifting him without a single issue, cracking his back on his knee then dropping him. The Sabbat vampire had no chance, turning into dust almost immediately.

The other thug turned around and pulled the trigger, but he seemed to be out of ammunition. What looked like an electrical aura engulfed Jack, and he dashed forward so fast that he was a blur. His fist collided with the vampire's face, and I cringed at what sounded like his jaw being crushed. Jack then punched the vampire in the chest, sending him flying towards me. The door kept him from knocking me over, but he hit it so hard that he bounced off, landing on his face, and turning into dust upon impact with the ground.

Damn. Note to self: do _not_ fuck with Jack.

I noticed that there were a few holes in the door, no doubt from the bullets. I looked down and saw that _I_ was riddled with a few holes as well. It hurt, but it didn't hurt _nearly_ as much as I was expecting it to. It was more like getting a flesh wound or a really bad burn, not the debilitating, searing pain that one would probably get from being shot in the stomach, hip, and chest.

"Fuckin' waste o' unlife, these Sabbat vatos." Jack growled as I approached him. He looked at me, eyeing my gunshot wounds. "D'ya get winged?"

I nodded. Jack chuckled, something I was getting a sense that he did a lot.

"Hey hey! Look at them potholes!" He said, gesturing to my wounds. "Those'll close up soon enough - better feed though."

He sniffed the air and turned his gaze to my right. "There's someone down the stairs here. You smell that?"

I sniffed the air too. I did. It was an alluring aroma, one that I could just smell all day. But it as a little different from the guy I fed off of earlier. It was less...fresh? It was difficult to describe. It was like the guy before was fresh grapes, picked right off the vine. What I smelled now was the canned stuff you'd find at supermarkets; good, but not the same as the real deal.

"I do." I said.

"He's not the freshest catch but he'll do." Jack said.

"What's the difference? Blood's blood, right?" I asked.

"Well, when it comes to feeding, it's quality blood you're looking for, not the quantity." Jack explained. "Bums and lowlives don't pack the same punch that a healthy, well-bread human will. Juicebags with a pedigree: that's the good stuff. But you gotta take what you can get. You ever had a PH.D., kid? Oh, that's the good stuff."

I cringed. "Can't say I have but, uh...noted."

"Remember what I said, though, don't kill them - least not the innocent ones." Jack urged me, "You're a monster now, make no mistake - one of the damned and the fallen. You need to hold onto every last shred of Humanity you have."

That was a tough pill to swallow. _Damned. _I never really gave a second thought to that word until now. It was a life sentence - or an unlife sentence, in this case. There was a chance that I was going to stay like this. _Forever. _Everything I knew would be different now. What about my friends from college? My family? My dad? Oh god, he must be worried sick. I hadn't called him in a week. Can I even call him, now? I couldn't tell him what was going on or else I'd end up like one of those Sabbat. What if he called _me?_ Do I answer? Do I tell him that I can't really go out at day anymore?

"Let's say...I get a little overzealous." I said, my voice small. "What happens then?"

Jack puffed his cheeks, pushing air through his lungs. I'd just noticed he wasn't even breathing until then.

"An innocent's an innocent." He said somberly. "You kill one, even a worthless bum, even by accident, and it's going to cost you a piece of your own Humanity. It'll bring you closer to that Beast you got wellin' up inside you."

He knew about it? That urge that crept in the back of my mind, even now? _Especially_ when I focused on it? That voice within that urged me to tear Jack apart, beat my chest, howl into the night like a bloodthirsty savage?

"The 'Beast'? What exactly...what does it mean?" I asked.

"The Beast - it's always there, waitin' to take over." Jack explained. "When it does, it's like a wild animal wearin' your skin...desperate, scared, reckless."

The thought made me shudder. Suddenly, I felt disgusted. Not at him, but at myself. At the thing within me. What was it, and who gave it permission to ride shotgun in my mind? Was I _feeding_ it every time I drank blood? I didn't know either way. What I _did_ know is that I didn't want an inhuman monster walking around and pretending to be me.

"Shit…" I said.

"He'll do anything to survive and it's you that has to deal with the consequences." Jack said.

"So...I can't kill anyone?" I asked. "What if I, uh...have to?"

"Ah-ah-ah! I said _innocent_ humans." Jack replied. "If some asshole levels a twelve-gauge your way, you drain him, skin him, and bash in his skull. Self-preservation is a vital part of Humanity, after all."

He smirked, then continued. "My favorite part, in fact. Savvy?"

I nodded. "Yeah...yeah, I think I follow."

"The only way to fight the Beast is to keep in touch with your Humanity, and don't go hungry. No starving it or ignoring it. It's a fine line."

I frowned. "Won't it get stronger if I feed it?"

"It'll get stronger as _you_ get stronger, little by little, every fuckin' night kiddo." Jack said. "All you can do is manage it and - some say - tame it, though I'm a little iffy on that part, if ya got me."

"I got you." I said.

"Alright, now go feed." Jack instructed me. "Careful, though - his blood is a bit thinner, so he's gonna drain fast."

"Be back in a minute." I said.

I walked around the corner and down the stone stairs, seeing a homeless guy walking around alone down there, muttering to himself. He must've been strung out or off his meds or something. He smelled absolutely _putrid_, but the aroma of blood coming off of him overwhelmed the dirt and grime. I didn't even speak to him, instead I lunged and he was powerless to stop me.

The taste was..._okay. _It was good, but nothing to write home about. At first, I had to soldier through the taste of dirt and sweat, which unfortunately mixed into the blood I was tasting. Either way, Jack was right: this definitely wasn't as sweet as the first time. I pulled back before I drained him dry, which was relatively quickly. Struggling with my beast wasn't as much of a fight pulling back this time.

Once I was off of him, he looked as doped out as the other guy I fed on. I noticed that the stinging sensation from the gunshot wounds had completely disappeared. Looking down, I saw that the holes were closed. The miracle of feeding on blood, I supposed.

"Not quite as good, huh?" Jack asked me once I walked back to him. "Eh, you could do worse. There's some rats down the way."

I looked at him incredulously. "Rats? _Now_ you're fuckin' with me."

"You think I'm kiddin'?" He asked. "You can survive feedin' on animals, if you can stomach that kind of thing. _Blech._"

"Worse than a bum's neck?" I asked, pointing my thumb behind myself. "That dude's neck tasted like old gym socks."

"Well, give it a try." Jack said.

"What? No way." I said.

Jack chuckled. "No balls."

"Fine, I'll bite the fuckin' rat." I growled.

I walked down the alleyway and saw one of the little rodents scurrying around. Quickly, I grabbed it and sunk my teeth into its matted, disgusting fur. The taste was, well… Okay, so if the guy I fed on earlier was fresh grapes, and the bum I fed on was canned and preserved grapes, this rat was curdled milk. I had to overcome the strong desire to spit it out as soon as I took it in. It died rather quickly, which surprised me.

Going back to Jack, I caught him laughing at me. I suddenly felt very embarrassed.

"Ya rat sucker!" He jeered. "Hey! I don't care what you do, but - just so you know - _polite_ vampire society looks down at that kind of thing."

"I _can't_ believe you tricked me into feeding on a rat." I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Hey! Wasn't _too_ bad, was it?" Jack said through chortles. "Some vamps are into that kinda stuff, you know."

"After taking a bite of that? I'm wondering what's wrong with 'em."

Jack turned his gaze and put a finger over his lips.

"Keep it down." He said, his voice lowered. "Got someone around the way here."

"Just one guy?" I asked.

"Not too much of a threat by himself, but you never know if there's more in shoutin' range. You're gonna have to sneak past."

I turned my gaze to where Jack's was directed. "Sneak where?"

"The building across from us, with the garage door? There's some double doors on the far side. I'll meet you inside. Just stay low and stick to the shadows. And don't let him see you."

"I'll do my best."

I walked through the chain-link gate and into another empty lot that had an industrial lift, a parked car, and a stack of wooden boxes. As soon as I walked through the gate, I went into a low crouch. I could see the Sabbat thug standing at the far end of the lot, staring down at his flip phone. Slowly, I moved through the lot and took cover behind the car, then moved behind the stack of wooden crates. One thing I didn't anticipate is how easy it was to sneak now that I was, well, dead. I didn't have to worry about coughing or my breathing. I was just...silent.

I moved behind the wooden boxes, watching the member of the Sabbat carefully. He didn't look up from his phone. I walked up nearby concrete stairs and through glass double-doors that led into a run-down looking room. Unsurprisingly, Jack was waiting for me inside.

"Keep it quiet." He said lowly. "They're inside here. Seems that shovelhead outside just got separated from his pack. He's wounded too. Go take care of him. Don't worry...he's probably greener than you."

"What makes you think that?" I whispered.

"The Sabbat, you see...they don't have the most rigorous training program." He said. "In fact, that poor sod is lucky if he knows he's a vampire."

"What? How can that be?"

"Ah, he was probably just turned and beaten over the head." Jack mused. "They like to do that… make shock troops. Cannon fodder. Put him out of his misery."

I nodded. "Sounds good. I've got a little frustration I need to work out."

"He _is_ a vampire, so be ready."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Go get 'im."

"Getting 'im."


	4. Embrace 1-4

In hindsight, I didn't know why I was so confident.

My only experience fighting was the occasional bar fight. I was no boxing champion or martial artist. The only sports I'd participated in had been gymnastics and occasionally basketball, but never anything fighting-oriented. I sized the Sabbat thug up before I fought him. He was taller and lankier than I was - which was _pretty_ tall and lanky. He also had claws and what looked like a tire iron, which would make things more complicated. But I also saw what Jack meant. He was wounded, riddled with bullet holes and there was a nasty cut around his stomach.

It didn't matter in the end because he had me on my ass in about five seconds.

I hit the ground. Hard. And it _hurt._ The thug attacked like a savage beast, pounding at my arms with his tire iron. I used the marginal knowledge I had about fighting and put my arms up to protect my face, using the meatier part of my forearms to block the blows. The thug was so strong that, if I wasn't _also_ a vampire, I was convinced he'd have shattered my arms to pieces. He reeled back, and I used the small amount of time I'd had to my advantage. I kicked him in his stomach to push him away, and blood spewed out from his mouth since I'd gotten him right in his wound. He fell back.

Quickly, I got up and used the opportunity to kick him while he was down. There was no point in fighting honorably. I had to use any advantage I could get. Repeatedly, I kicked him in his ribs until I heard a sickening _crack._ The thug howled in pain, then grabbed me by my foot and suddenly yanked my feet from under me. Again, I hit the ground hard, and the thug struggled to get up, clearly feeling the pain. I saw the same electrical aura that engulfed Jack earlier engulf him, and I knew that probably meant he was going to smash me into a fine paste.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I yelled, narrowly dodging out of the way as the monster punched the ground where I was, creating a sound like a car slamming into concrete at full speed and leaving a very visible crack. If I got hit, then my afterlife would be _very_ short.

I scurried out of the way of another blow, then took off running away. If I was going to have any chance of survival, I had to create distance between myself and this beast. I looked back and saw that he was lifting one of the crates from the pile, and I threw myself down as he threw the crate faster than an NBA pitcher. While I was on the ground, I crawled behind the car.

_Okay._ I thought. _What are my options?_

I didn't have a gun, not that I was confident enough in my aim for it to make a difference. If I _did_, have the ability to summon animals like LaCroix's bodyguard, I didn't know how to, so it wasn't an option worth considering. What, then? I had my fists, and the vampire that was currently charging at me was armed and souped up with whatever ability it is that Jack used. I had no options.

No hope.

Nothing.

Then, I felt something. It wasn't the Beast, no...it was something different. Something without, rather than within. As the Sabbat monster charged at me, I reached out for that power calling to me. I looked out at the thug and held out my hand, as if grasping the power out of the air. And then I felt it. I felt the connection.

Blood.

It rushed through him. It rushed through me. I commanded it, I made it move and contort. Clenching my fist, I grasped the power with all my strength. I seized control of his blood, making it an extension of my body. I didn't _know_ what I could do, but I felt it. Almost intuitively, I knew what to do. So I _pulled_ the blood out of him, forced it out, forced his body to reject it. Mid-charge, the Sabbat vampire keeled over and fell onto his knees, tumbling for a while. He tried to get up, but his knees were weak. The most he could do is kneel as he vomited up all of the blood in his system.

"Ho-lee shit…" I muttered, standing up. The Sabbat vampire was over there vomiting enough to kill a normal person, and I just took the opportunity to attack.

Reaching for his blood again, I engulfed my fists in it, and the crimson covered it all the way to my forearms. It covered my hands and forearms in thick layers, solidifying into a rock-hard substance. I kicked the vampire over so that he was on his back, punching him in the face until it was unrecognizable. He writhed beneath me, unable to move correctly as he was vomiting up blood. With enough hits, he turned into ash. Unfortunately with his projectile vomiting blood, I was practically covered in it from head to toe. The hardened blood gloves I'd created turned back into their liquid form, freely dripping from my hands.

"Fuck's sake." I muttered to myself, standing up.

Walking back to Jack, his eyes were wide as dinner plates once he saw me. I was dripping with blood, and in desperate need for a shower. Hopefully, this training session wouldn't last too much longer.

"Damn, kiddo." He muttered. "Have fun?"

"I did stuff with his blood." I said. "It was...disgusting, but effective."

"Ah, right. Justine was one of those Tremere, so I bet you would be too." Jack muttered. "Interestin'. From what I know, they don't _start_ knowing how to pull tricks with blood…"

"Earth to Jack?" I asked. "Tremere?"

"I'll explain later, kid." Jack said, waving his hand dismissively. "Or it'll be explained to you. One or the other. Well, that's that. It sounds like we got another pack movin' in through. You better head underground, avoid stray bullets."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"Alright," Jack said. "Head down through the basement, through the grate in there.

I walked through the door behind Jack and opened the grate that he told me about. It was bolted shut, but I was strong enough to pry it open with little to no problems. Using the metal ladder, climbed down and walked through the door. In the narrow hallway on the other side, I saw a security guard and froze in place.

"Stop!" He ordered. "Just stay back! Keep your distance…"

I stopped like he said, raising my hands in the universal sign of surrender.

"Now, who the hell are you?" The guard demanded. "You involved with all of this? Because I'm going to radio this all in and SWAT will be all over this place!"

How was I going to approach this? I didn't just want to slaughter a security guard. Aside from him just being a guy doing his job, there was also the fact that the cops would probably be on my ass. Forensic evidence and all. I had to talk my way out of this, but how? The guard looked young, scared, and pale as death. He was obviously cooped up down here because he was terrified of the gunmen outside.

"No, but if SWAT comes, they'll drive the gunmen down here." I reasoned. "You want that?"

That seemed to take the guard off-guard. Pun not intended. "No. Well, I uh - I left my radio in the Caprice anyway."

God, this guy was horrible at his job.

"Look - I'm just trying to escape, is there another way out?" I asked.

"Y-Yeah. Okay, alright - this way." He told me. "This'll lead us up to the warehouse, we can maybe sneak out that way."

I went silent for a moment to listen. My senses extended out from the hallway to the sounds of gunshots and general wanton violence outside. If he went out there with me, he'd drag me down and he'd die. I couldn't have that.

"You better stay here." I said. "It's too dangerous for you."

And with that, I walked through the door into the other room. Standing near a pipe was another one of the Sabbat thugs. I closed the door behind myself and moved slowly and silently, I moved behind him and wrapped an arm around his throat. He struggled, but I used all of my strength to snap his neck. It was over as quickly as it started, and he turned to dust at my feet.

Jack came out from the same door as me. Once he was within earshot, he said, "Not sure what's goin' on. Sounds like the Sabbat's gettin' scattered."

"Finally, some good news tonight." I said.

"It ain't over yet, kiddo. I'm gonna keep an ear to the ground. Be careful goin' forward here...could be a whole mess of 'em holed up." He advised me.

"Great." I sighed. "Just my luck."

I lockpicked the nearby door open and advanced through. Keeping low, I moved through the next room, unable to see any Sabbat with me, but I wasn't sure. Yet again, I extended my senses beyond myself, but this time I focused on sight. My vision blurred for a slight moment, and then became clear. I could see the silhouette at the far end of the room, through the pipes, engulfed in a strange, red aura. Is this another one of my abilities? Slowly, I moved towards the figure and maneuvered around the pipe, snapping the Sabbat thug's neck and turning him to ash.

"I think they're clearin' out." Jack said. I turned my head and saw he came in after me. "There's no need to go stirrin' up the hornets' nest 'till we know the score, though."

I nodded. "Is there a way out?"

Jack nodded. "That door behind ya, leads to a hallway. There should be an elevator. Go through and I'll meet you in the nearby hallway."

"Got it." I said. "If I'm not there in ten minutes, call the president."

I walked through the hall and into a room filled with wooden boxes as well as two Sabbat thugs. Once I got close to them, I reached out to their blood and took control as I did outside of the building, forcing it all out of their bodies. They began to violently projectile vomit any blood they'd consumed, falling to their knees and turning into dust rather quickly. I was beginning to like that power, whatever it was.

Walking into the other room, I was immediately caught by the guard.

"Freeze!" He yelled.

I tried to say something, but he took out his gun and immediately began shooting. I threw myself to the side to get out of the way of his aim. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he was interested in talking. He was probably too spooked with all of the crazies crawling around the building. Still, I couldn't kill him. He was just doing his job. He was an innocent, and I would be damned if I let the Beast take even another ounce of control.

For a split second, the guard and I made contact. I held up my hand as if to stop him, and shouted, "Wait!"

The guard's eyes glazed over, and suddenly his arms went limp. He dropped the gun and stared straight ahead, as if he was just placed under hypnosis. I raised an eyebrow and got up, moving towards him and waving my hand in front of his eyes. He was completely entranced.

"This is amazing." I said to myself. "I can compel people...of course I can."

I cleared my throat. "Now, guard, fuck off."

The guard unzipped his pants. My eyes widened in horror.

"No, no! I don't mean - I mean leave!" I said quickly.

The guard simply walked away, moving as if he were a zombie of some kind.

I advanced into the next room and saw Jack standing by a _wet floor_ sign. He looked amused as ever once I approached him, laughing even.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Fuckin' humans, man. Gangbangers 'protectin' their turrf'." He said with a wide grin. "I'm here thinkin' it's Sabbat movin' up in here...it's the fuckin' locals about to take one for the hood."

I exhaled. It was somewhat relieving to not be dealing with vampires, at least. It made me wonder what happened to the Sabbat, but I said nothing in fear of bringing them back into the equation. Hey, if weird blood magic and vampire hypnotism existed, then I couldn't see why "speaking things into existence" wouldn't.

"Right." I said. "So what do we do?"

"Shit, they've prolly seen too much. Here." Jack handed me a small gun with a white handle. It was a revolver of some kind. "Take this thirty-eight. Fuckin' peashooter, but a few shots and that'll take down a human."

I raised my eyebrows. Normally, the prospect of killing another person - a criminal - would have me terrified. But then I heard something deep within me, the Beast growling and scratching at the surface of my mind from whatever pit it came from. It urged me to destroy, to rip those bastards a new one. Why shouldn't I? I had a shitty enough night. Cracking a few skulls and ripping out a few entrails could be entertaining, and I deserve that much.

Shuddering, I shoved the thoughts into the back of my mind. I didn't want to do all of _that_, but I did understand I'd have to kill them if I wanted to get out of here. At the thought of killing them, I didn't feel anxiety or anything...I felt nothing. Like I'd be killing ants.

"Thanks." I said. I wasn't exactly confident in my ability to aim, but I wouldn't tell Jack that.

"Well,I'm gonna want it back, so don't die and lose it." Jack said. "I don't use guns much. They're noisy, they're clumsy, practically useless against vampires. But still, a Kindred's gotta keep up with the times, and in modern day L.A, that means comin' strapped."

"Useless against vampires?" I asked. "I thought shotguns were one of our weaknesses?"

"Well yeah, some are more lethal than others, of course." He said. "Shotguns can smart, I tell ya."

I nodded. "One thing we have in common with the humans, eh? Weakness to shotguns."

Jack chuckled. "Hey, head up and clear out what's left of 'em. Can't have them runnin' their mouths about any o' this. I'm gonna make sure there's no stragglers running around outside."

I nodded and checked the chamber of the gun to see if there were any bullets. It was full. I had six shots. I was probably going to fuck around and miss all of them.

"Alright." I said.

I went through the elevator into a room where boxes were stacked up to the ceiling in metal shelves. Once I walked in, a rather panicked-looking thug sprinted towards me with a baseball bat in hand. Quickly, I aimed as best as I could. He was moving too much for me to get him in the head, so I nabbed him in the shoulder. There was a loud _bark_ sound as the gun fired, the bullet drilling straight through his shoulder. That stopped the thug in his tracks, and I took the opportunity to feed.

I tackled him and sunk my fangs into his neck. He tasted a _lot_ better than the homeless man, that was for sure, but still not as good as the guy in the empty lot. I drank from him until he stopped moving, quieting the urging of the beast within.

Gunshots came from around me, and I quickly took cover behind some of the boxes. The thug moved around the shelf to get a better shot, but I reached within his body. Commanding his blood was much easier, and soon he was purging it all over the floor. Another thug ran towards me with a bat, but I reached for the blood that the thug was throwing up, forming them and hardening them into three hard spikes with my mind.

The spikes impaled the thug through the chest and head, killing him instantly. As soon as he hit the floor, the blood spikes I'd created melted back into liquid blood. I stood up, muttering, "See? Don't even need a gun when I have magic bullshit." I stuffed my new gun in the waistband of my jeans, hiding it beneath my red shirt. Walking around California obviously holding a packing was a death sentence.

I walked towards the elevator and saw Jack walk through.

"I've dealt with them." I said. "That's it?"

"That's it, kiddo." Jack confirmed. "Just like that and it's all over. Everyone sinks back to their corners of the city for the night."

I nodded. Even though I'd done quite a bit over the night, I wasn't tired, not in the slightest. I felt well-rested, as if I'd just awakened from a deep slumber. The only thing I felt was thirsty.

"So it's all over." I mused.

"Until the next night, when the Camarilla finds some way to strike back." He explained. "Parry, dodge, spin n' all that. And so on, and so on, and so on…"

That sounded exhausting. "So...this is normal?"

"Well, to be honest, you came at a, well, an interesting time, let's say. The Camarilla, the Sabbat...well, in LA these are the new kids on the black." Jack said. "There's already plenty o' Kindred had stakes down in California long before them.

"Now? We got every ancient Kindred rivalry playin' out all over the city. Lotta tension out there. Lotta fear. Lotta jittery, high-strung predators clingin' to their little pieces of eternity."

"You're losin' me here, Jack." I said.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I heard beeping outside. Jack turned his gaze behind himself. "Oh boy. Well, I think they're lookin' for you outside; guess you got a cab to catch. Was hopin' to fill you in on a little more but...ah hell, you'll figure it all out."

I wasn't sure if I liked the sound of "figuring it all out", but it looked like I didn't have much of a choice either way.

"I would. Oh - uh...here's your gun." I said, handing him the gun.

"Keep it, kid. Changed my mind. You'll need it more than I do." Jack said. "If you make it back, stop in at the Last Round - it's this bar downtown here - I'll fill you in on the politics. Now that's the stuff that'll kill ya."

"I'll see you-" - Jack turned around, his visage _blurring._ In a blink, he was gone. "-...there?"

I walked out of the building and found a black car parked at the sidewalk, waiting for me. The windows were blacked out, so I couldn't see who was driving. I walked to the back and opened it, getting inside. We drove for a while, and I looked outside, thinking.

_Jesus Christ, Algernon._ I thought to myself. _What did you get yourself into?_

* * *

**A/N: **And this concludes the prologue arc, _Embrace_! Again, I thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback are appreciated!


	5. Interlude: Inner Workings (Strauss)

Maximilian Strauss was livid.

A Tremere executed in front of the vampires of LA, Hollywood, and Santa Monica? A Tremere executed by that incompetent prince, who parades his superiority on that stage? A _Tremere_?! The fact that it was one of _his _clan that broke the rules, executed so publically was an absolute travesty! This couldn't be allowed to stand. He had to do something to save the face of his clan, to preserve the Pyramid.

He took a moment to calm himself. The Beast within raged, telling him to cast a spell to destroy all of his enemies tonight. But the Beast was an irrational creature, not to be listened to unless it was a matter of survival. So, he had to calm himself, erase all emotion and rage from the equation. He had to think of the facts, and he had to think of them in a way that didn't make his blood boil.

One: Prince Sebastian LaCroix didn't know the truth about Justine Sanders. If he did, he'd doubtlessly have mentioned it in front of the crowd. After all, announcing that he was executing a violator of the Tradition of Progeny _and_ an antitribu spy within the Camarilla would no doubt give him points among the LA Camarilla. If nothing else, the Kindred talked. They talked to their ghouls, safe in their havens, and their ghouls talked to other ghouls, who talked to their masters. It would be spread that Prince LaCroix was a protector of the Traditions _and_ a bulwark against the Sabbat before the fortnight had passed.

Two: Justine Sanders' childe was still alive, and he was no doubt loyal to LaCroix, which would be a problem. He'd gazed upon Justine's aura and saw she bore the taint of diablerie. He didn't know _what_ she was by the point of her execution, but that would no doubt mean that she had produced a powerful childe. How powerful? If he had the time, he could divine his generation. But would it matter? He was looking at someone who could be a spanner in his works or a useful pawn. He would rather the childe be dead before he even had a chance to be the former, but the Prince just _had_ to save face.

With those two facts, Strauss believed he had a pretty accurate working theory on the state of things. LaCroix was ignorant of Justine being a spy from the House Goratrix, and Justine's child, a potential fledgeling that is anomalously powerful, was loyal to LaCroix. Things were looking dire indeed, but he had to remain calm. He had to think. He knew he was smarter than LaCroix, and he knew he could outmaneuver him. He'd done so many times before, and without the foolish prince knowing to boot!

"Regent, we've reached the chantry." His driver said. "Is there anything more I can do for you, sir?"

"No, acolyte." Strauss said. "Thank you for your service tonight."

Maximilian exited the car and walked towards his chantry. It was a large, Victorian-style building with a colored windows. He walked through the halls, deliberately choosing the path that would lead him to his study, rather than the inner sanctum that wasn't open to outsiders. With a gesture, he opened his doors and took off his coat, hanging it on the nearby rack. He stared into his fire, deep in thought. How would he save his clan from this embarrassment? Such a thing getting out could potentially weaken the position of the Tremere, and the Camarilla as a whole in LA. He'd rather his sect not be torn down by xenophobic witch hunts for Sabbat spies, especially not one led by the demogogues in the Ventrue.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Enter." He commanded.

A figure came in, dressed in black pants, a black blouse, and a long, red coat over it with feathers along the collar and sleeves. Her hair was long and curly, and her skin might have been darker at some point, but was now an ash gray.

"Magister Kamala." Strauss greeted her.

"Regent." She said, bowing her head respectfully. "I have come to ask what came of the Prince's meeting? Had he found out…"

"No." The Regent said. "At least, I do not believe so. If he _has_, he is hiding it, and I don't see why he would."

She nodded. "What will we do about Justine's progeny?"

Strauss rubbed his chin, turning back to his hearth. The fire flickered and danced, reflecting against the red lenses of his glasses.

"What indeed?" He said. "I'd thought we should kill him...but I believe we should consult the Lord before we act any further."

Kamala nodded. "Of course, Regent."

Maximilian turned to her. "You seem troubled, Magister. Speak."

"Justine was...a talented Magister, and her passion for the Mysteries was unlike anything I'd ever seen before." Kamala said. "Very amiable. It is just unthinkable that she'd…"

"Turn on us?" Strauss asked.

"Yes."

"Mm...well, the pull of the forbidden blood sorceries and diablerie can be very tempting, Magister." Strauss. "The House Goratrix, traitors as they may be, are very cunning and intelligent, and worst of all, persuasive. We must be more zealous within our clan's ranks and recognize that, regardless of the character of the Acolyte, Apprentice, Magister, Regent, or even Lord, that all can be pulled into the Sabbat's machinations."

Kamala nodded. "Yes, Regent. Do you wish for me to gather the other Magisters?"

Maximilian nodded. "Yes. I will message Lord Godric." 

* * *

Magisters Kamala, Wei, Samara, and Alejandro gathered in Strauss' study. Strauss had moved the furniture so they'd have enough space for a circle, which he created with ash. It was a simple one: a circle with a square within, then a five pointed star drawn within the square to focus the magical energy within the circle. Strauss, Kamala, Wei, Samara, and Alejandro each stood at a point on the star and held their hands out to the side.

They began chanting in another language, a tongue long dead to mankind. The fire in the hearth suddenly turned a ghostly blue, and the entire room went cold. Their chanting became louder and louder as it went on, and the fire moved like liquid through the air, dropping at the center of the pentacle and turning into a raging collar of flame. Now the flame was all kinds of colors: red, green, blue, white...the fire rose up to the sky and then died down, spreading into a ring of fire on the ground. The fire spread across the ash, igniting the circle. A ghostly light manifested in the center, forming and solidifying into a humanoid shape.

Lord Godric was much older than he looked. This was the case with most vampires, but with Godric, it was exaggerated. He couldn't have been older than seventeen or eighteen when he was first Embraced centuries ago. He was shorter than Strauss and lankier, with black hair that was slicked back. He wore the red robes of a Tremere Lord, along with a necklace with the clan's symbol on it. Godric stood with a dignified pose, his chin up, his presence absolutely regal, even though this was just a projection of his image.

"Regent Strauss." Godric greeted him. "Magisters Wei, Kamala, Samara, and Alejandro. Good evening."

"Good evening, Lord Godric." They all said in unison.

"Your Regent had messaged me earlier to tell me of a spy within our ranks." Godric said. "I've heard she has been dealt with."

Maximilian spoke up. "Yes, Lord. She had been executed by our prince."

Godric's expression darkened. "A traitor within the _Tremere_ was executed by a _Ventrue_ prince?"

Everyone was silent.

"Tell me everything." Lord Godric commanded.

The Regent told Godric everything. He told him about how she had the taint of diablerie in her aura, how she'd been seduced by the House Goratrix. As Godric listened to this story, his expression became more and more stony. By the time Strauss was done, his hard gaze was directed at the floor, almost as if he was trying to burn through it.

"Magisters," Godric said, "Leave us. Let me speak to the Regent privately."

The Magisters each looked at each other. Godric looked at Strauss.

"_Now_, if you please." Strauss ordered them.

Quickly, all of the magisters left their stations at each point of the circle and, one by one, they left the Regent in the study with his Lord. Strauss turned towards Godric, who very much looked unhappy.

"Strauss," He began. "I had charged you with the administration of this Chantry with faith that you would be able to guide the LA Camarilla into prominence, just as your colleagues in Seattle had done."

Strauss nodded. "Of course, Lord Godric."

"Do you know what's at stake here, Regent?"

Maximilian didn't answer.

"What's at stake, Regent, is our reputation." He continued. "If it gets out that there was a spy coming from _our_ clan, and that a _Ventrue_ Prince had executed her, then it is going to erode faith in our organization's ability to root out traitors. This will cause Tremere and other Kindred alike to lose faith in the Pyramid, which will lead to chaos in our ranks! In fact, this could lead to the weakening of the Camarilla in general. The Ventrue or the Toreador will seize control - and then what? We'll be subject to their suicidal whims?"

"I understand, Lord." Maximilian said. "I had considered all of this much earlier, believe me. The reason the Magisters and I had decided to call upon you is for advice and direction. We ask only your wisdom. What would you have us do?"

Godric rubbed his chin. He began to pace, never reaching the edge of the circle.

"You say Justine had the taint of diablerie in her aura?" He asked. "You have seen this yourself?"

Strauss nodded. "Yes. It would seem she had diablerized her sire."

Godric's expression darkened. Strauss had never seen him like this before. It was as if he'd seen a ghost, or something horrible happen right before her very eyes.

"Bad omens indeed." He muttered.

Strauss raised his eyebrow. "My Lord?"

"Speak _not_ of this in front of the Magisters. This is not to go below your level at all, do you understand?" Godric asked.

Strauss nodded. "Of course."

"Our ability to blood bond...it is weakening." The Lord said. "It is not gone, no. But it is allowing Kindred below us to do things that shouldn't be possible. Apprentices are disobeying their Magisters. They are only minor acts of rebellion so far, but if what you say is true…"

Suddenly, Strauss felt cold. He hadn't felt cold in centuries.

"You understand the implications." Godric said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, my Lord." Strauss said.

Godric went back to pacing. "And LaCroix...you said that he doesn't know that Justine was an antitribu spy?"

Strauss shook his head. "No. Or else he would have announced it at the execution earlier this night. It would put him on the good side of a city already growing frustrated with his administration."

The Lord of the West Coast shook his head. "No, Regent. Think of the long game."

The Regent raised an eyebrow. "My Lord?"

"It's possible that he _does_ know, and he wishes to use this knowledge as a bargaining chip." Godric said. "Perhaps he wishes to use it to twist your arm, force you to take a particular action."

_Of course._ Strauss thought. How could he be so stupid? That _is_ a legitimate reason that LaCroix would keep his knowledge secret. The Prince was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He had always been hell-bent of ridding the city of the Anarchs, and he was even willing to ally with the likes of the Kuei-jin to do so. Of course, Strauss thought this was suicide, and refused to support such efforts. It wasn't as if he was overly fond of the Anarchs himself, but he could at least _tolerate_ them more than he could tolerate the likes of the Sabbat or the Kuei-jin.

LaCroix was focused on destroying the Anarchs at any cost. So focused, in fact, that he had lost sight of anything else. The man was irrational. He knew that he couldn't get the support of the Camarilla on these efforts alone. Strauss himself was more well-liked in the organization, and few had even expressed their desire for him to be Prince. If LaCroix could get Strauss to support his efforts in allying the Kuei-jin, it would definitely be easier to get the rest of the Camarilla to support this effort. So how does he get Strauss to support an effort he is so vehemently against? He somehow gains dirt on the Tremere, which he knows that Strauss is fiercely loyal to above all else. He uses it as a bargaining chip to gain the Regent's support.

"Of course he would." Strauss said, sighing. "The Prince is positively mad. But this begs the question: why hadn't he come to me with this yet?"

"From what I understand, the situation within LA is unstable." Godric said. "You have all but eradicated the Orientals from your steppe, and any wrong move on the Prince's part can ignite another war. With that happening, and Justine's childe stepping into this mess, it had likely pushed the timetable back quite a bit."

Strauss nodded. "So it would seem. We have a little bit of time."

"Which is all we need." Godric said. "What of Justine's childe? What do you seek to do with him?"

"I had hoped to see what you would have me do." Strauss said. "My first instinct is to kill him. He is too much of a liability, a variable in this matter. Though I would have to arrange his death in a way that would undermine the Prince without implicating myself or my Chantry."

"No. Don't kill him." Godric said.

Strauss tilted his head. "My Lord?"

"He is a potential pawn in this game. The piece we need, actually." He said. "If we can influence his actions, he can be quite the spanner in Prince LaCroix's works. Right now, LaCroix must see himself as responsible for the Progeny's actions, which means he will closely be directing them. If we can get him on our side, he will be able to offer valuable insight on the Prince's actions. If you manage to dispose of the Prince, he will be a valuable pawn in the end."

"My Lord, if I may…" Strauss said. "What if he cannot see reason?"

Godric's eyebrow raised. "He _is_ of our blood, is he not?"

"Yes, Lord Godric."

"Then he _will_ see reason, Regent."

"Very well, Lord Godric."

"One more thing: how would the Prince have found out about Justine being a traitor? Is there anyone but you or the Magisters that know?"

Strauss couldn't think of a way LaCroix had found out. Not unless-

He clenched his fist. Hard. So hard that the leather in his gloves began to strain. Once again, he was livid. He had to take a moment to calm his thoughts.

"Grout." He growled. "That raving madman...it must have been him. There's no one else it could have possibly been."

Godric raised a hard look at Strauss. "You told an _outsider_ of a problem within the Tremere?"

Strauss chose his next words very carefully. "Grout is a recluse. He no longer leaves his mansion, and as of late, nobody has seen him in years. I had made a deal with him that I will feed him knowledge of things within the Camarilla or the Tremere, and he will offer me insights that will help me steer the Camarilla away from the Prince's madness. I do know the risk involved in taking this action, but Grout had a positive disposition towards me, and his insight had allowed me to gain knowledge of the Prince's other crimes."

Lord Godric's lips pressed into a thin line. "Very well. You know what must be done."

The Regent nodded. "I will have Grout dealt with, my Lord."

Godric's previously tensed shoulders visibly relaxed. "Well, that is that. Is there anything more you'd like to discuss?"

Strauss nodded. "I assume you'd have me alert the Pontife-"

"No." Godric said sternly. "We will not alert the Pontifex, lest we risk bringing down her wrath upon the domain, or worse: the wrath of the Council. This matter will stay between us, and will be dealt with by you. _Privately._"

"Understood, Lord Godric." Strauss said. "That is all I wish to discuss."

Godric nodded, and his projection began to shimmer and fade.

"Remember, Regent, pay attention to the long game." He said as he disappeared, his voice lingering behind. "From what I understand, the Camarilla is potentially facing a war on three fronts. Do not be surprised if the Sabbat have a play as well."

And with that, the Lord of the West Coast was gone.

Strauss didn't get time to think before a knock came to the door.

"Enter." The Regent called out.

An apprentice came in with a manila folder full of files. He walked up to Strauss, and Strauss took it.

"These are the files you had requested, Regent." He said. "My Sire apologizes that he couldn't give it to you personally. He has an engagement in Hollywood to tend to, so he sent me in his stead."

"Very well, Apprentice." Strauss said as he opened his folder. It was a complete record on Justine's child, Algernon Blake. He was a writer, had three of his books published but they hadn't achieved too much in terms of property. Former gymnastics star in high school, great academic record, several odd jobs served over the last three years.

"Interesting…" He said. "Apprentice?"

The apprentice lowered his head. "Your bidding, Regent?"

"Contact my ghoul, Wanda." Strauss said. "Tell her to come meet me. I have a very important mission for her. You will find her in the Crystalline Apartments on Hall Street."

"Yes, Regent." And with that, the Apprentice left.

Strauss was finally left there with his thoughts. He looked at his now empty fireplace, gazing at the embers that glowed beneath the ash. He crossed his arms and frowned.

_Long game, indeed._ Strauss thought. _Just what were you thinking, Justine?_

* * *

**A/N: **So when I said minor story differences, _this_ is what I meant. I decided to tweak the story a bit to make the player character's sire a bigger part of the story, since I always found it a little strange that they never really had anything to do with anything that happened in the story. They aren't even mentioned. I hear Bloodlines 2 plans on changing that, so I'm eager to see where that goes.

Anyway, these interlude chapters will always be told from the perspective of some other character in the story, and I aim to offer insight into things happening outside of Algernon's descent into monsterdom (monsterhood?). Either way, I hope you're enjoying the story, and reviews are always appreciated!


	6. Arise 2-1

I returned to my apartment, where this whole clusterfuck started. The bed was still messy from the...er, activities that Justine and I had partaken in. The sheet was off the bed and haphazardly thrown onto the floor. Clothes were everywhere, some of which were hers and some of which were mine. It was strange to think that, just a couple of hours ago, I was a living and breathing human being. Now? Now I was a vampire. Dead. A monster.

First, I took a shower. I was a mess with blood, and it was lucky that nobody saw me walking into the apartment building or else they definitely would've called the cops. I made sure the water was warm, but I was surprised to find that it didn't seem to make a difference either way. I _felt_ the water, but I strangely didn't feel if it was hot or cold. It looked like enjoying hot showers was out of the question now.

Once I was out of the shower, I cleared the steam on the mirror and looked at myself. All things considered, I looked more or less...the same? My features were always angular and hawkish like my father's: a strong jawline, a cleft chin. My face was all hard lines and sharp angles, with my mother's high cheekbones and deep blue eyes. I knew I needed a shave and a haircut, but I was reluctant. Did vampires regrow hair?

My skin was also a pale gray, almost the color of ash. I was never a particularly tan guy in life, but this made me look like I _never_ went outside. It wasn't something I minded too much, but it did make me wonder if every bone-pale or ghoulish-looking man or woman I'd seen at night was a vampire. Were they really everywhere and I didn't even notice? With their rules, it was likely. I wondered how many times I came close to being their prey.

"Get yourself together, Al. You have shit to do." I told myself, walking into my bedroom and grabbing a new set of clothes. What should I wear? Maybe if I wore red, the stain of blood wouldn't be so obvious on my clothes.

I grabbed a blood red button-up, black underwear, and a pair of black jeans. That should be good enough. I put on the clothes and buttoned up the shirt, opting to tuck it in my pants due to it looking better than leaving it un-tucked. Once again, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked a little vampire-y, but it wasn't as if I was going outside in a black cape with a high collar, speaking in a Transylvanian accent. Did Dracula exist? So many questions, nobody to answer them. I decided to suspend all of my questions for the next Kindred that was willing to answer me. Annoying as it may be for them, it was their responsibility to guide me, right?

I walked into my closet again and grabbed my backpack. I didn't know what I'd need out there, especially since I was apparently going to be committing crimes or, on occasion, killing people. I grabbed a few things I might need: a spare shirt and jeans, my pocket knife, my flip phone, and a notepad and pen in case I needed to write anything down. I walked into my fridge and opened it, noticing that someone had placed three blood bags inside, next to the probably stale beer and week-old pizza. After wondering idly if I could still eat food and drink beer, I grabbed the blood bags and placed them in an insulated bag I kept on my counter, then I slid that bag into my backpack. For safe measure, I also placed my gun and lockpick in the bag as well.

I noticed that there was a new laptop on my desk by the window, which was interesting because I was positive I didn't have the money to buy one. I walked over to the desk and found a note.

_Hey. The password for your computer is "sunrise". Keep the cash in the drawer… it's yours. I dropped you an email with my address. Come on over after you're settled._

_-Mercurio_

Mercurio. That was the man that LaCroix wanted me to meet with for whatever reason. I supposed that I ought to get into my computer and extract that address from my emails. I didn't know how long the Prince was giving me, but I was going to go out on a limb and say it wasn't "all night". I opened the drawer and found an envelope full of money. 100$. Nothing to write home about, but it was good enough.

I moved over to my computer and saw another note tucked under the laptop. The handwriting was neat and precise. Whoever wrote it obviously wrote letters often which, according to TV, was a "dying artform". I grabbed the note and read:

_Dear Algernon,_

_At your convenience, please come and visit me in my home downtown. I leave you this to guide you:_

_Dark blood, our curse, a light this verse_

_Such power I sense in one so young_

_Come find me where burns the mystical sun._

_M. Strauss, Tremere Regent_

There went that word again. _Tremere. _Was it the name of a person? An organization? A secret society? I figured that talking to this "M. Strauss" would give me more of the answers I needed. I didn't know why the poem was necessary; why couldn't he just tell me his damn address? Even when I was a writer, poems and riddles had always been a weakness of mine. Whoever M. Strauss was, he would have to wait. I had to prioritize my meeting with Mercurio before going to Downtown LA. 

* * *

24 Main Street, apartment 4. That was the address Mercurio gave me. He said in his email that he was going to pick up some astrolite, and that he'd be back by the time I came to town. As I approached the apartment building, what I saw was...not good, to say the least. There was a man, older than me but not _old_ per se, keeled over a puddle of blood big enough to be embarrassing. I heard him strain as he crawled up the stone stairway to his apartment building. He finally forced himself up, barging through the large wooden doors.

_That's not something you see every day._ I thought to myself as I approached the building.

Before I was even halfway there, some guy ran to me, his green eyes as wide as dinner plates. For a moment, I thought he was going to attack me, but he stopped dead in his tracks once he was within earshot. Something about this guy's demeanor reminded me of an excited puppy. Or a crackhead.

"Need somethin', pal?" He asked.

I glanced over at the apartment building. I tried to move forward and ignore them - as I tended to do with his type - but he stepped right in my way. What the fuck did he think he was doing? I could tear his heart out _right now._ Warp his blood to strangle his heart. That grin wouldn't be on his face if I tore his fucking throat out.

I took a moment to comment the angered Beast within, then said, "I'm okay, I was just looking for someone."

"Aw man!" The guy said. "Wait. Say that again."

I blinked. Was this guy actually fucking strung out?

"Um...okay? I'm...looking for someone." I repeated.

"Aw man! You - you're a vampire, aren't you?" He asked, that grin of his reaching ear to ear.

_Oh fuck._ I thought.

What was going on? I couldn't have violated the rules already, right? Could this guy be someone that saw what happened back in Downtown? No, Jack would've taken care of him if that was the case. Was this a test then? Was he sent by one of the vampires to see if I'd spill? Or did someone _else_ spill, and now he was running around telling anyone that would listen? Either way, all I knew was that _I _wasn't saying shit.

"What? Vampire? What the hell are you smoking?" I asked, playing dumb.

"Oh, c'mon!" He whined. "Aw man, you are too! Don't bullshit me man, just come clean, you know, mean… oh man! I ain't gonna tell no one. It's okay, man. I just wanna talk!"

I raised an eyebrow, very skeptical of his promise to tell no one. He was practically screaming it at the top of his lungs in the middle of the street. It was a good thing that not many people were here, and the people who _were_ here were probably too doped up on opiods to be lucid. I sighed at the man and crossed my arms.

"Alright then, let's talk." I said.

"HELL YEAH!" He whooped. "Oh man, I knew it! I just - Oh geez, I knew you were! I could tell! I - oh man, this is great! And th-then I saw your teeth an-and I was, like, damn! It was like I could just sense you. The name's Knox Harrington. Pleasure to meet you. Aw man!"

I spoke with this man for five minutes so far, and already my Beast _and_ I were wanting to tear this guy's throat out.

"Alright - hey, look, we can talk later, yeah?" I offered. "Right now, I've got something really important to do."

"Oh man! Dude - dude, I'm so sorry! Yeah dude, you can like, totally see me at the Asylum! We can talk and- oh man!"

Tightly, I nodded and advanced past him. As I walked past him, my shoulder _would_ have lightly bumped against him, but it seemed that my body had other plans. I turned back slightly, my shoulder _ramming_ against Knox's belligerently, almost knocking him off balance. He seemed undisturbed, but I was surprised. What just happened? I didn't _mean_ to do anything like that. Was that my Beast? Did it have domain over everything I didn't have deliberate command over? My thoughts, my instincts, my unconscious actions? It looked like the Beast wasn't just something I'd be able to forget about. Ever.

By the time I'd gotten into Mercurio's apartment building, the hallway was a mess of blood. The floor was absolutely _covered_ in it, and it was on the walls too. I assumed that it was from the guy that was bleeding all over the ground. The blood had a noticeable trail, leading to the apartment that was down the hall and to the right. Mercurio. Shit. Was Mercurio the one that was bleeding all over the floor like that? I followed the trail to the apartment, opening the nice, blood stained double doors.

The bleeding man, Mercurio I presumed, lay on his couch, looking like a corpse in a puddle of his own blood. The carpet, floor, walls, and curtails were all soaked with this guy's blood. Idly, I wondered just how much blood this guy had. It should definitely be enough to kill a person. Then I was terrified, not at the dead body but at the fact that I was completely undisturbed by the fact that there was a corpse in front of me, a corpse that I'd seen alive just minutes ago. If I was fast enough, I could've saved him, but that blowhard Knox just _had_ to interrupt me.

I walked over to the man to check his pulse, and he suddenly came to life. He leaned up and looked at me, his face so beaten that he had almost no discernable features. From what I could tell, he was probably in his early to mid forties. Short hair that is parted at his forehead, strong features, and five o'clock shadow. In a way, he reminded me of someone from _Goodfellas._

"Those mothers...ripped me off." He strained. "I'm dyin' here!"

He _was_ dying, that was for sure. Maybe I could put him out of his misery. Take him as a snack while I'm at it.

_Down, boy._ I thought to myself, addressing my Beast.

"Are you Mercurio?" I asked him.

"Uhh...yeah. You're uh...shit...Algernon right?" Mercurio asked. He tried to sit up more, but cringed visibly from the pain. "You're lookin' for the astrolite? I'm..._oh_...I can feel a draft on my fuckin' insides!"

I looked down at his stomach. There were enough holes for it to resemble Swiss cheese. For a few of them, I could see straight through him. What the hell was going on? This guy should be in critical condition, if not dead.

"They shanked me - the bastards!" Mercurio hissed. "The blood ain't workin' no more - my head, it feels...cracked. Uh...I think my eye's popped."

Now I was beginning to panic. I couldn't have this guy die on me.

"I'm going to call an ambulance." I said.

"What? No!" Mercurio protested. "I got a record back east. I'm heat bait. Don't touch that phone! No-...no _goddamn_ cops!"

"Mercurio, you look like a fucking corpse right now!" I chided. "Are you sure?"

Mercurio shot me an intense look. "No. Cops!"

"Fine! Fine. Fuck!" I hissed. "Okay - what happened to you?"

"I got...I went…" Mercurio's gaze drifted downwards, to a hole where some sort of growth was poking out. "What is this lump?" - he poked at it - "Is this my rib? Oh, holy shit, my rib is pokin' through my side?! Oh. I'm all numb...you gotta tell me!"

I knelt beside him and examined the growth, feeling along his ribcage. I spent long enough in medical school to know what a broken rib felt like. Not only was it broken, it was broken _six ways from Sunday._ Shattered. Anyone else would be dead by now, but this guy wasn't. Was he a vampire too? No, he couldn't be. There was too much color to his skin, and I didn't bleed that much even when I was shot.

"Yep, that's a rib." I muttered. "Look, man, I was pre-med. In my semi-professional opinion, I'd say you have five minutes to live. Tops. Who did this to you?"

"Goddamn chemist!" Mercurio growled. "Can't trust any operators in LA. I verified him, organization seemed reliable. Guy mixes up speed, his crew sells it. Occasionally does explosives. I set up a drop."

"Didn't go well, I'm guessing?" I asked.

Mercurio shook his head. "I show up at the beach with the money, right? Four of these guys, they come out of nowhere. Junkie pricks - hit me with a bat! Head feels like I got a friggin' horse kickin' it."

"That'd be a concussion." I guessed.

"I never shoulda gone alone…" Mercurio lamented. "Amateur move. I shoulda handled those pricks. Goddamn dirty Cali rat bastards."

He was going to say something, but he proceeded to cough up blood and bits of..._something._ At this point, I was just going over the police report in my head. "No, officer, I had nothing to do with his liquefied respiratory system," I'd say.

"Those cocksuckers…" He continued, soldiering through his pain. "Beat me rotten, left me for a stiff. I had to crawl to my car, crawl my ass up here. The vamp blood's the only thing holdin' me together. But shit, they got the money, they got the astrolite…"

I raised an eyebrow. "Vamp blood? You don't look like a vampire. You smell human."

Mercurio sighed. "Right. You're straight off the bus. Once a month, I get fed vampire blood. Heals me faster, makes me stronger than a normal human. I don't age. By lookin' at me, you wouldn't realize it, but I'm almost sixty."

My eyes widened. Holy shit. So humans could consume vampire blood to become...well, super-humans?

"Good to know." I said, filing that somewhere in my brain. "So, where do I find the astrolite now?"

"Those small-time sons of bitches live out in a dump on the beach." Mercurio said. "Four or five of 'em. The one's got the explosives is Dennis. Got my money too, that prick!"

"You gotta…" Mercurio heaved. That was probably a lung collapsing. "You gotta get it back from 'em. Maybe reason with 'em, maybe break in. Fuck if I know. God, I wanna kill 'em. Do whatever you people do. I blew it, I know."

"Right." I said. "What about you? Is there anything I can do to help? You won't make it to sunrise like that, my man."

"Yeah, if you could…" He cringed, moaning out in pain. "Somethin' just started leakin' - I need somethin' for the pain."

"I'll bring something back for you." I said, turning around to leave.

"Oh, one more thing!" He called out.

I turned around.

"About the deal…" Mercurio said. "I mean it - you tell anyone about this, I'm dead. I'm beggin' ya. I got a way o' gettin' people what they need. You don't say anything, I can help you out."

I nodded firmly, turned around, and left. 

* * *

Santa Monica beach wasn't anything special, at least not the part of it I was in. The pier was nearby, its amusement park shut down due to the late hour. I walked down the stone staircase and through the walkway, approaching the beach. At the far end, I could see a couple of people I didn't recognized huddled around a bonfire, just speaking to each other. I didn't notice a woman quickly approaching me until she was within earshot.

"Up there." She said. "Through that chain-link gate and up those stairs."

I stared at her. She had a look that reminded me slightly of Justine, a look that seemed like she was gazing _through_ me rather than at me. It was hot with Justine. With this woman, it was just creepy.

"Um." I said. "What?"

"Those men you're looking for." She said.

I frowned. Was she talking about Dennis and his crew? How did she know about that? And why was she telling me where they were?

"How'd you know I was looking for someone?" I asked.

"Never mind." She said quickly, dismissively. "You wouldn't understand."

"Probably wouldn't." I agreed. "What's new. Thanks."

And with that, we parted ways. 

* * *

**A/N: **This marks the beginning of the story's first arc, "Arise"! It'll cover the "first half" of the Santa Monica part of the game.

Question: Which character would you all guys like to be covered in the next Interlude? I was thinking LaCroix, or the Voerman Twins, but I don't know. Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying, and reviews are always appreciated!


	7. Arise 2-2

"Can I fuckin' help ya?" Asked the shirtless thug standing outside of the beach house.

I figured maybe I could talk sense into these people. Why kill them if I didn't need to? That would just attract unneeded attention, attention that I didn't want. The guy looked extremely aggressive and twitchy. Maybe he was strung out. Hopefully he was lucid enough to listen to reason.

"I just need to get inside." I said. "I'm here to buy some astrolite."

"Oh really?" The thug asked, getting a little loud. "You call ahead? The man expecting you? Cuz he didn't tell me to expect anybody."

That was something I didn't think about. Now I felt a little amateur. I didn't exactly deal with gang bangers on a daily basis when I was living, alright? It was clear this guy wasn't going to let me through unless I came up with a good excuse, but I had none. So I peered directly into his eyes, just like I did to the guard hours ago, and said in a very stern tone, "Let me in."

I could practically see the wheels turning in the thug's mind as he processed my order. He blinked a few times, as if he was trying to fight it, then his eyes glazed over.

"Okay." He said. "You can go on in. And if you really want to make my night, go ahead and start some shit in there cuz I would love it."

I had the lingering feeling he was compensating for something. "I'll remember that. Thanks."

He stepped aside and I walked through the gate. I walked into the beach house and saw an unkempt, almost dilapidated mess in which thugs in hoodies and jeans fidgeted and played video games. There were some women, probably from the street or the boardwalk, who sat down on the floor with glazed-over eyes, just slumped against each other. I could see holes on their forearms. The place was absolutely wretched. It made me sick. I wanted to paint the walls with their blood.

No. _I_ didn't. The Beast did.

I walked through the house, being sure not to touch anything or look at anything for too long so that I didn't piss anyone off. I was positive that I could completely destroy the five people in the house, but again, doing so would attract unnecessary attention. Collateral damage had to be considered. I walked into a room at the far end of a hallway and saw a man standing over a table that had what looked like explosives on it, bricks of cocaine wrapped in seran wrap, and an envelope of money.

The man was a lankier type. Black, with a cream-colored blazer on and a button-up that was unbuttoned halfway, revealing his gold chain. With that, his green slacks, and his afro, he looked like he walked straight out of some kind of Blaxploitation movie. This was the guy that had Mercurio taken down? Did he call him a jive turkey as well? When I entered, I was surrounded by his thugs. It seemed they were making an effort to intimidate me.

"Uh-huh…" The man said once I entered the room. "Yeah, you look real good at me. Before we do bu'ness - before anything changes hands - I want you to hear this: if you try to cross me, I will fuck you. If you tell the cops about me, I will find you, _then_ I will fuck you. And if you _are _a cop, I will fuck you and your whole family, including' that squirrel in your front yard. Now that we know the terms, what can I do to make you walk out feeling like you just flew first-class with a cheerleader in your lap?"

I stayed silent for a moment. Was that supposed to be intimidating? Something as blatantly rehearsed as that? Was he trying to intimidate _me?_ The idiot. He didn't know who he was dealing with. _What_ he was dealing with. I could make his veins pop out from his flesh. I could have him bite out his own tongue, or have his thugs point those fucking peashooters at their own skulls and pull the trigger. Their blood - I could hear it rush in their veins - I could _smell_ it. Tension, nervousness, adrenaline. It rushed through their useless mortal bodies. I could paint the room with it.

_Holy fuck._ I thought. Was that...was that my new response to being annoyed? Dennis' speech had, at best, amused me, but here I was thinking of licking the blood off of their bare bones. Why was this happening? I _knew_ I wasn't thirsty.

"What've you got?" I managed.

"My staff maintains at all times a twenty-four carat smogasbord of A+ narcotics guaranteed to make the competition's shit seem like a weak cappuccino in comparison." He said. "White, green, blues, reds, black - you pick a color."

I wasn't going to go buying drugs from this guy. So I tried another route. "Do you know a guy named Mercurio?"

Dennis' expression lit up. "Mercurio? Yeah, we know him. We know Mercurio, don't we fellas?"

His thugs each chuckled in response.

"How is our friend Mercurio?" Dennis asked.

"Not well." I said, crossing my arms. "I came for the astrolite you promised him."

He laughed at that, but the thugs were completely silent. "Is that a fact, jack?! Damn… I'll tell you what. If you can get outta here without a bullet through your face, I'll let you keep it."

Well, I tried.

There was silence before I responded. Every one of the thugs were twitching, as if they were going to jump out of their skin. Some grabbed their guns. Dennis himself grabbed his knife. The only problem is that all of them were slow. They were _so_ slow that I could read a book before they were able to do anything.

Once Dennis gripped his knife, he lunged at me to stab me. I dodged, and in response, I punched him through the fucking window. The thugs looked at me, their eyes wide. I licked Dennis' blood off of my knuckle and grabbed the knife he tried to attack me with off of the ground.

"New deal," I said. "I'll kill every last one of you before you reach the front door. If you can prove me wrong, I'll let you go."

They wasted no time in shooting at me.

Now, I'm not a professional fighter. I never was much of a fighter. Even in high school, I didn't really get into many fights. I preferred to talk things through with my bullies, or just ignore them entirely. After high school, I didn't really get into any major confrontations at all, save for the occasional bar fight. The only fighting knowledge I had was from the few self-defense classes I'd taken for about three months, and what I'd seen in movies.

But I was a _vampire._ These were _humans._ I was faster, stronger, and it took more than a gunshot to take me down. The Beast was raging within me, not controlling my actions by any means but encouraging them. For once, the Beast and I were of one mind.

One of the three thugs in there drew a gun, but was too slow. I slammed the blade of my knife into his chest and through his lung, slicing him like butter. He was gone in no time. A bullet flew and hit me in the back of my leg, and while I _felt_ it, it probably wasn't anywhere near as painful as when I slashed his wrist and slammed his head against the wall until he was a bloody mess. The last thug that was left ran straight for the door in the room, but I caught him rather quickly. Thirsty, I sank my teeth into his neck, draining him until he was still as a corpse, and then lifting him and throwing him through the door.

There were quite a few thugs waiting for me with their own guns, this time sporting automatic weapons. I reached for the blood in the corpses behind me and created a wall behind the door, taking cover behind it. The bullets stopped midway through the gelatinous blood mass I'd created, and I took the opportunity to reach into my backpack, grabbing my revolver. From there, I vaulted over the blood wall and took cover behind another wall. Bullets flew, loud enough to make my ears ring.

I came from behind my cover and _tried_ to aim for one of the thugs' important parts, but instead I ended up getting them in the chest. That was enough to knock one of them down. Another one reloaded and aimed, but I forced him to purge his blood. He keeled over, vomiting the blood in his circulatory system, followed by anything he might've eaten today. I took the opportunity to shoot him dead, then I advanced, taking cover behind a couch.

"What is going on…?" One of the strung out junkie girls asked, rousing from her chemical-induced stupor. She screamed as three thugs kicked the front door open, marching in with shotguns.

_Uh-oh_. I thought.

I didn't know _how_ weak I was to shotguns, and I didn't want to find out. I threw myself, narrowly dodging a shotgun blast and rolling into the nearby kitchen where I took refuge behind a fridge. One of the thugs turned to follow me, so I climbed to the top of the fridge, dropping on top of him once he entered. He fell down to the ground, and I wrestled his shotgun from his grip, keeping a few shells from hitting the junkie behind me. I punched him hard enough to loosen his grip and then I grabbed the shotgun, pulling the trigger and splattering his brains all over the floor.

The junkie screamed, but I had no time to pay attention to her. One of the thugs began to charge at me, but I pulled the fridge down, making it drop to the floor and forcing him to slow down so he didn't get crushed. I vaulted to the top of the now fallen fridge and shot him in the chest, creating a gaping hole with my shotgun. He flew back from the sheer force, landing on top of the thug behind him. I dropped the shotgun because it seemed to be out of ammunition, taking out my revolver again. The thug that fell tried to reload quickly enough to shoot me, but I aimed and shot him straight through the head.

"Fuck's sake!" I yelled. I walked across the room to the junkie, who was now in the corner. She'd seen too much, and I didn't want her crying to the cops. My first instinct was to kill her, but my first instinct was telling me to do a lot of horrible things these days. It seemed the other two junkies that were slumped against the wall had overdosed. Not my problem.

"Look at me." I told the junkie, trying to keep my voice as soft as possible.

The junkie looked at me. She was pretty, in a "ruined prom queen" sort of way. She was still clad in a bathing suit. Her and her friends probably came up after swimming downstairs. Her bikini was so tiny. Maybe I could tear it off, make her show her appreciation for not tearing her apar-

I ignored the Beast's suggestion.

"Leave." I told her, making eye contact. "Forget about tonight."

Her eyes glazed over more than they already were and, in a daze, she walked out of the exit of the house. I sighed deeply and walked back into the room I met Dennis in, grabbing the explosives, envelope, and a few bottles of morphine I found on the table. After stuffing it in my backpack, I walked out of the house, only to see the thug that was standing guard outside waiting for me.

"Thanks for making my night, fucker." The thug growled.

He drew his gun but, again, he was much too slow. I lunged at him, sinking my teeth into his throat. I drank from his useless, thuggish body until it fell completely limp. I pulled back and wiped the blood off of my mouth, checking my wounds. It looked like they had closed completely. I looked back at the house, at the blood-splattered walls and windows. I meant to peacefully get the explosives, but instead I made it a bloodbath. And I _enjoyed_ it. And what the hell was that with the junkie? What was I becoming?

In the moment, I'll admit, it was fun. It was nice to get revenge for Mercurio, but now? I felt melancholy. Every minute, I was recognizing myself less and less.

_You're a monster now, make no mistake - one of the damned and the fallen. _Jack had said.

I was never a pacifist. In fact, I believed violence was sometimes justified. My violence in the beach house, I was sure was justified. But to be violent and _enjoy_ it? To give into my Beast like that and vent my frustrations? To make a mess of it? I didn't know how I feel about that. Sure, I felt on top of the world, like a god among men...but at what cost? What was happening to me? What the fuck was I becoming?

It didn't matter. I had an eternity to think about it.

Feeling conflicted, I walked down the stairs and to the beach. 

* * *

When I exited the beach, I checked my backpack to see if everything was still intact. The money, astrolite, and the pills were. But it looks like a bullet flew through my insulated bag, which pretty much soaked everything else in blood. There goes my spare blood packs. Keeping a few on me, still, didn't seem like an awful idea though. Maybe there was a place I could get more? I walked down an alleyway and saw a door that said Blood Bank on the top. Of course. The clinic! Maybe there was a way I could get blood packs from there.

To my surprise, the door was open. It led to a stairway, with a hallway to my left, but the door to that hallway was locked. I looked around and took my lockpick out of my backpack. The lock was slightly difficult to pick, but I eventually got the door open and walked through to the hallway. It looked like it led to the front lobby, which probably meant I wasn't supposed to be there. Regardless, I snooped around in hopes of finding a blood bank. Through one door, I found a room with a patient bleeding out on a table.

She was still alive. I could hear her heartbeat. But she wasn't going to be alive for much longer. She had shoulder-length red hair and glasses, which covered her green eyes. She was in black low-cut pants and a yellow crop-top with spaghetti straps, and black sneakers. She was pretty in a nerdy sort of way, and she kind of reminded me of Justine. She even looked like her a little, the same soft features but angular chin and jawline.

"Uh. Please - get a doctor." She strained. I could see multiple stab wounds on her chest. Her shirt was partially torn open, and she was bleeding a fountain. Did someone try to rape her?

"Shit - I'll see what I can do." I said, panicked. Quickly, I left the room, barely registering the redhead talk about how her insides hurt so bad. I ran down the hall and opened one of the doors until I saw a doctor, a black guy with dreads.

"Doctor!" I called to him.

He turned to me, clearly tired and worn out. He groaned when he saw me.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to have to wait outside like everyone else." He said. "No exceptions."

"But there's a girl over there." I said, gesturing behind myself. "She's going to die!"

"See here now, I'm the only physician here at the moment." The doctor snapped. "We've got _twice_ as many people as usual waiting for treatment. I'll look at her soon as possible. Try to talk to her, keep her awake."

"But-"

"I've got a man in here with a _bullet_ in his head! My nurse paged Doctor Roberts a half-hour ago; he'll be here anytime. Till then, stay with your friend, and make sure she doesn't go into shock. I must go."

I frowned. The service here was horrible, but I at least understood his struggle. I should've known the clinic was taking on more than it could take; with the redhead's condition, she would've gotten help a while ago if any help was available.

"Okay." I said flatly.

I rushed back to the redhead's room, where she was thankfully still alive. I walked through the door and closed it behind myself. She was sobbing.

"Hey, stay with me." I urged her.

"Can someone call my grandma...please?" She pleaded almost drunkenly.

This was bad. If _someone_ didn't do something, she would die right in front of my eyes. I couldn't let this happen. She was innocent. She wasn't like the thugs in the beach house, or even a lost cause like the junkies inside. This redhead was dying right in front of me, and I could save her. But how? How could I save her? I was pre-med, sure, but I didn't have the equipment nor skills to save this woman's life. I only had one thing.

She began drifting away. I could tell. I slapped her cheek quickly. "Hey! Stay with me. I can save you."

The redhead moaned in pain, her voice getting weaker, her stare going vacant. I needed to act quickly before she died. She wasn't like Mercurio. She wasn't superhuman, she couldn't survive being made into Swiss cheese or shedding half of her body weight in blood. No, she wasn't like him. But I could make her like him.

Quickly, I took out my knife and slit my wrist, holding the open wound over her mouth. Droplets of blood began to fall inside, on her tongue. Her body moved almost sinuously, her arms springing up and grabbing my wrists with an iron grip. She pulled the wound to her mouth and began to actually _drink_ my blood, her entire body tensing. I saw her wounds close up, faster than anything I'd ever seen before. She released my wrist and I pulled back, and I saw her body untense.

I saw the life return to her. She groaned and sat up.

"You alright?" I asked.

"You…" she began, clearly still in a daze. "Wha- Who...wh-who are you?"

"My name's Algernon." I told her. "Everyone calls me Al, though."

"Ohh...what did you do?" She asked. "What did you do to me?"

Shit. I forgot about the rules. I couldn't just _tell_ her, could I? No I had to lie. But what would I tell her? She was very clearly conscious as she suckled from my wound, taking in my blood.

"Nothing." I said quickly. "I uh...just wanted to help."

"B-But you did something." She said, her voice sleepy, as if she'd gotten up from a long rest. She sat up more, and the way her shredded shirt exposed her bra and chest was enticingly interesting. "I-I...I kissed your wrist… I can feel it inside of me. What did you do?"

I realized I was staring, and that my Beast was urging me to do _more_ things to her. Why not? She couldn't stop me. I gave her my blood. She was _mine._ Hell, she'd probably fucking enjoy it.

I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. Jesus, I did what I did to get _further_ from the Beast, but all that seemed to happen was that it changed course. Instead of wanting to abandon her, it wanted to dominate her in every disgusting way imaginable. I really couldn't escape from this thing, could I?

"Look," I said. "Just forget about this...and don't say anything. You'll be fine."

"You…" She said, gazing directly into my eyes. Her gaze was dreamy. "I feel like I know you… like you've always been here."

That made me frown. What was going on? Mercurio didn't act like this...admittedly, I didn't know a lot about this "feeding humans vampire blood" thing, so what was going on? I didn't know if I made a mistake, but surely if I left, everything would turn out just fine, right?

"I really must be going now." I said, and before she could say anything else, I left.

I left the hospital without finding the room where they kept the blood. Sure, I didn't get what I came for, but I saved a life, and surely that was worth something. Right? After that bloodbath in the beach house, I was unsure of what I was, what I was becoming. But even if I was becoming a monster, at least I could help people. At least I could do some good, even though I was killing people and feeding from them with little to no remorse. I even saved the life of a cute redhead at the hospital tonight.

Jack said that these will be the least of my sins before the night's out. As I walked back to Mercurio's, I was inclined to believe him. 

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter, I thought I'd go really in-depth about the Beast and how it's affecting Algernon, the way he thinks, and the way he acts. I always interpreted a Kindred's beast as something that's always _there._ It can't be cured, it can't be quieted. It's there constantly like addiction or depression, except it's sentient and wants to express every primal, predatory desire through the Kindred's undead body. It's in your mind, it knows what you want, what you need, and it's smart enough to suggest what you _should_ do in a situation so that you're forced to do it, giving it an inch so that it can proceed to take a mile. It can only be ignored or listened to. Never quieted or muted.

Anyway! We also meet Heather in this chapter, one of my favorite characters from the game. If you like the chapter, don't hesitate to give me a review! All feedback is appreciated!


	8. Arise 2-3

"Mercurio? Shit. Did you die on me?"

I kicked the foot of the sofa, shaking it and rousing him from his half-death. He groaned and got up, his mostly-ruined face turning towards me, his one eyeball studying my expression. I sighed in relief. At least he hadn't died. He better not half, with all I had to go through to get this guy's explosives.

"I bought you some morphine. Hold still." I ordered him, taking out the bottles of morphine and spilling two pills into my hand. I slid them into his mouth and made sure he swallowed. When he took the pills in, he sighed in relief, as if they immediately numbed the pain.

"Holy Christ, I needed that." He rasped. "Thanks."

"No problem." I said. "Well, actually, massive problem. Had to make a bloodbath of those assholes. But I got the astrolite back."

"Yeah?" Mercurio asked. "You wasted those sons of bitches, huh?"

"They gave me a pretty raw deal." I said. "So I gave them one right back."

He nodded firmly. "Good. Great. Hope it was painful. Didja get my money back?"

I considered keeping the money as compensation for the complete moral degradation resulting in what I had to do, but I decided against it. Whatever happened to me, Mercurio clearly got off _worse._ I reached into my backpack and took out the envelope of cash, tossing it onto the stand near the couch.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver." He groaned. "I might have to buy some new kidneys with this."

"Your kidneys are probably the least of your problems." I muttered. "What's the story with the astrolite?"

Mercurio finally sat up so that he was on a sitting position in the couch. Already, I could see him getting a little better, if only because the pain was fading.

"That astrolite?" He explained. "Twice as powerful as TNT. Instant demolition. Be on the other side of the world when you engage that timer. You need to make some place disappear - a warehouse. Looks to be a Sabbat interest."

I frowned, deep in thought. So the plot thickens.

"What do you know about the warehouse?" I asked.

"Heard a lot about that operation." Mercurio said. "I'd love to get in there, get my hands on the equipment they've been unloading. But it'd be suicide to walk in there… got a small army of trigger-happy types and they're all packin'. I dunno, maybe…" His voice trailed off, clearly thinking.

"Maybe?"

"Well…" He said. "There's a guy. Never met him, but I heard a lot about him. His name is Bertram Tung. He's one o' you types - y'know, walking stiffs? If there's anyone who knows more than me about this city, it's him. Unfortunately, Tung's hiding out at the moment."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"Tung's laying low cuz of Therese. Therese Voerman, y'know her?"

I knew her, alright. Or rather, I knew the surname _Voerman._ She must be related to Jeanette, who owned The Asylum. They're involved in this vampire shit too? Jeanette _did_ look pretty pale, to be honest, but I figured that was some sort of foundation. I never spoke to Jeanette personally, but I'd seen her because she really liked being seen. She was one of those people that demanded attention without saying it, capturing the eye with her presence.

"Anyway, word is Terese and Tung are feuding." Mercurio continued. "I don't know the details. Seems like Tung thinks he's about to get whacked, so he's gone underground until Terese calls it off."

"And he won't be helping me until that happens." I guessed.

Mercurio nodded. "Bingo. You're gonna have to get Therese to call off the feud."

I cursed. First taking down small-time gang bangers, now getting involved in a feud between vampires? I didn't even do this much running around when I was alive!

_Politics. Now that's the stuff that'll kill ya._ Jack had said, his words echoing in my mind.

"Sure fucking hope not." I muttered out loud.

"What?" Mercurio asked.

"Nothing." I said, shaking my head. "Where can I find Therese? The Asylum?"

"Yeah. I never go to that place. Freaky customers frequent that place." He said, shuddering.

"Tell me about it." I agreed. "I know a bit about Jeanette. What can you tell me about Therese?"

"She's _the_ woman around here." Mercurio explained. "Power player. Nice looking broad for a dead chick but, uh...personality like stone."

I _humph_ed in agreement. I knew the type. "Sounds like my ex."

That made Mercurio chuckle.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." I said. "You take care of yourself, alright?"

"Yeah...yeah, you too, Fangs." Mercurio said.

* * *

Before I went to The Asylum and got myself involved in a feud between two powerful vampires, I decided I'd go back to the beach to see the woman that had helped me earlier. To my dismay, she was nowhere to be found. Of course she wasn't. It seemed whenever I finally got a handle on things, it turned out to just be the surface. Really, I didn't know what I didn't know. I approached one of the guys on the beach to ask if he'd seen her. There was something about him that looked a little...off.

His skin was tanned and he had gray eyes. I could see his fangs every time he opened his mouth. Was he a vampire? No, it couldn't be. Every vampire I'd met thus far was either deathly pale or ash gray. This guy looked almost normal, save for the fangs.

"Listen, it's like I've told you types 'bout a thousand times now," He told me before I could say anything, his Australian accent adding clear twang to his voice, "We know we can't hunt 'round here, alright? We're minding our own business, no need to hassle the weaklings."

I raised an eyebrow. The other people with him, all human-looking with fangs, stared at me like deer in headlights. This was probably the strangest thing I'd gotten all night, and _that_ was saying something. "Look, I'm not here to...who are you guys, exactly?"

The man frowned. "You mean you ain't here to run us off?"

"Um, no. Why would you think that?" I asked, frowning as well.

"You types keep coming 'round here and trying to drive us off, and we're getting pretty sick of it." The man scowled. "Someone citing domain or in the worst cases, hunting us for sport."

I narrowed my eyes. "What the shit? Why?"

"Don't know." The man said, sighing. "We all seem to have come down with the same...disease. Ah, hell, who am I kiddin'? We're a bad horror show, alright? And us? We're the runts. The mistakes. You types call us thin-bloods, but we're equally screwed if you ask me."

Yet another term I didn't know the meaning of. Hopefully this guy can give me answers.

"Don't worry, I'm pretty new to this Monster Mash stuff myself." I said. "What's a thin-blood?"

The man chuckled bitterly. "Damned if I know. I know you don't want to be one. You seem to be in the loop - you tell me."

I narrowed my eyes. "I...I don't know, that's why I asked - okay, you know what? Never mind about that. Are you part of the Camarilla?"

"Camarilla?" The man asked. "See, I've heard all that before, an - and I still don't know what the hell anyone's talkin' about! I'd like to know just what I've become - we- we'd all like to know jus-...just what the...the _hell_ kinda devil's contract we've apparently signed!"

I felt bad for him. I knew exactly how he felt. It was how I felt in that theater when Justine was executed, it was partially how I was feeling now. Sure, I was stronger, faster. I could control blood, see through objects, and compel people to do things...but at what cost?

"I'm with you." I said, my tone grim. "How'd this happen to you?"

The man crossed his arms, guarded. "I just came to town for the surf tourney - seems like years ago but it's...well, it's been about six months now. Every night during the finals, I'd hit the local diner after the beach parties fizzled out in the A.M. That's where I met her."

"Your Sire." I guessed. "The one that made you like this."

He nodded. "She had a natural beauty. Not like all the plastic dolls littering the sand, you know?"

I thought back to Justine. I nodded. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Her name was Lily." He said. "I remember introducing meself - the way she seemed grateful for the company… Well, a few nights after our meeting, we were on the beach alone and…"

"Go on." I said.

"She tried to tell me what she was, but I didn't understand." The man said, his expression haunted. "And so, she showed me. I was...fucking _furious_ with her when I took it all in. Cursed her and left, never really knowing what I was. I...I realize now how she must've felt."

He looked out to the sea, watching as the waves crashed loudly against the shore. He continued to say, in a haunted tone, "So here I am...now a mystery to meself."

"Is Lily dead?" I asked.

He scoffed at that. "Clinically? Deader than disco. But honestly, I don't know. I suppose I'd have moved on by now if I didn't think she'd show up one of these nights. There's a lot I've got left to say to her."

I turned to glance at the other people that stood around the bonfire. Were they all "runts" as the man called them?

"Are they thin-bloods as well?" I asked.

"Aye." He confirmed. "Most of them recently arrived. Got chased off by the Sabbath or some such thing from their home cities. They're more in the dark than I am. They're a good bunch, but...well, they've been through a lot. It's affected them."

I sighed, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "You guys...you're vampires. You know that, right?"

The man shrugged. "That's what Lily tried to tell me. And yeah, I can get behind that, sure. But what I don't understand are the rules and the terms and the reason some of 'em are at our throats claiming we're harbingers of the apocalypse! _That's_ what I want to know."

_Yeah._ I thought. _So do I._

"I'll look into it." I said.

The man raised his eyebrows. "What the hell? Really?"

I nodded.

"Well, I hope you have better luck than I did." He said. "No one's been particularly friendly to me in this city. Only reason we're in Santa Monica is because we hadn't been chased out yet."

"I'll keep you posted if I hear anything." I said. "What's your name?"

"Call me E." He said. 

* * *

"What'll it be?" Asked the cashier at the diner by my apartment building.

I asked the same question I'd been asking pretty much everyone since I left the beach. "Ever see any pale, kind of strange types in here, late at night?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that a trick question?"

I shook my head. "What about a couple in here a few months ago? Surfer guy, pretty girl?"

"Hm, let me think…" She deadpanned. "Oh yeah, about four dozen a week."

Frowning, I felt a little ridiculous. This _was_ California, after all.

"Okay. You see any girls hanging out here..? Pale girls?" I asked.

The cashier raised her eyebrows. "Pale girls? Like the Fitzsimmons albino? Yeah, she hasn't been here in ages."

I squinted. I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic again or not. Is this what talking to me felt like?

"Have you heard the term, 'thin-blood'?" I inquired.

"Thin-blood? Sounds familiar… is that one of those tropical diseases?" She asked.

I was _so _close to giving up.

"Try to remember." I urged. "Where'd you hear it?"

"Hmm...I know I've heard that before."

"Maybe a kind of strange, pretty girl said something about it recently?"

Once again, the cashier's eyebrows raised. "Oh, that girl! Nice girl. First decent human being I've seen in here for years - not like all the junkies and crazies I normally see. Yeah, I remember her. Yeah...weird. She left a tip but she didn't order a thing."

_Probably because she wasn't hungry._ I thought.

"Yeah, and she looked so hungry too." The cashier continued. "She just sat there all night with a full glass of water in front of her, talkin' about this and that. She seemed lonely, a little scared, so I let her stay in the booth until we closed. She left some stuff here. You seem to know her, why don't you give it back if you run into her?"

"Thanks." I said. "I'll be sure to do that."

The cashier grabbed a few objects from the drawer behind the desk and handed them to me. She handed me a photo, a receipt for a bail bond, keys to a car, and a purse. I had a feeling that if I were to gain any insight on Lily's whereabouts, I would probably have to check her car. I exited the diner and walked straight to the parking garage by the beach, hoping that it was there and not in some other city or something. That would seriously hamper this personal quest of mine - which was essentially, I realized, procrastination.

Why was I wasting my time helping an apparent runt find his girl? Well, I guess I sympathized with him. I knew what it was like to be dropped into a world as strange as this one with little to no explanation of what was going on. E wanted to be reunited with Lily in the way that I wanted to be reunited with Justine. I wanted her to explain things to me, tell me and "guide" me as LaCroix had said she was supposed to.

Perhaps more than that, I still felt the guilt from what I did to the thugs in the beach house weighing down on me. It was a matter of life and death, sure, but it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten myself involved in the first place. Saving the redhead back at the clinic didn't quite balance out what I'd done. Maybe if I get E to his Sire, I could make things a little better for him. What was the worst that could happen?

* * *

Me looking for Lily's car was basically me walking around the garage, pressing the beeper on her key ring repeatedly until I heard a _beep_ from her car. Once I heard it, I walked to the window and peeked in to see if anything was inside. Nothing. Well, this was just a dead end. But it was Lily's car. There _had_ to be something inside that could help. I focused on extending my senses, hoping that it could give me insight on what I was looking for. I spotted a glowing aura shining through the metal of her trunk. I walked over to it and opened it, spotting a red book with Lily's name signed on it.

"Ah ha." I said.

I read through it to gain insight on where she might be. There were multiple entries, starting from her meeting a guy and waking up the next night, not being aware that she fell asleep. She wrote about how she hadn't eaten in four days, and she had wondered what was wrong with her. Then I saw an entry about Rolf, who must've been her Sire. He told her that she needed blood. She then wrote about how Rolf said he needed to leave, how he was being forced out of the country. Then she had to bail him out of jail.

_This man is all kinds of charming, ain't he?_ I thought to myself.

Apparently Rolf disappeared after Lily bailed him out, which made her feel afraid and lonely. She actually thought the guy cared about her. The next entries were about how she met a guy in the Surfside that she'd talk to until five in the morning. E, I presumed. She would meet him, and she'd constantly write about how he didn't know what she was. Is this how Justine felt when she was with me?

_This isn't about you._ I reminded myself.

Things got serious after that. This Lily chick must fall in love quite easily, because she swore she fell for E in her diary. She talked about how he kissed her and how she couldn't keep herself from biting into his neck. She'd fed him her blood to save him, and he said that he never wanted to see her again. That gave me pause. Is that how vampirism worked? You drain a subject completely dry, then give them a bit of your blood? I supposed that made sense, now that I thought about it.

The next entry was the last. It read:

_5/16/04_

_I haven't been able to feed since that night with E. I'm afraid of what will happen. I remember Rolf bought blood from the blood bank. Maybe if I can sneak in, I can grab a few bags and get out before anyone catches me._

That was a week ago. Where was Lily now? Well, considering what E said, and her things still being lost, I'd put money on her still being at the Blood Bank. What could've happened to her, I wondered? I'd just been there. If I hadn't ran out after saving the redhead, would I have been able to save Lily as well? No, there was no point in dwelling on what I could've done. I didn't know then, but I know now.

* * *

"Need a fix?" The creepy clerk asked me from behind his glass window. He had orangeish-auburn hair and wide, creepy green eyes. His gaze was that of a madman's or a serial killer's. He'd have given me the chills if my nervous system was what it used to be.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

The clerk chuckled, bloodshot eyes staring straight at me with their piercing gaze. "C'mon. Don't fuck with me. You think I don't see the monster that hides beneath that mask of flesh you wear? Yeah...your type always comes marching in here, willing to pay anything for their fix like damn junkies."

I narrowed my eyes. Just who the hell did he think he was calling a junkie.

"Right…" I muttered. "I'm guessing you know about-"

"Vampires? Kindred? You bet I do." He said. "You look greener than fake grass. Hell, I probably know more than you, buddy."

This man was rubbing me entirely the wrong way. His tone was hostile and condescending, which made me want to break through that window and strangle him. Who the fuck did he think he was? And that _wasn't_ an impulse by my Beast. It seemed to have quieted since I was thinking about brutalizing this guy.

"...Okay then." I said flatly. "Well, I need to get to the back room."

"Employees only." He said, a wide smirk on his face. "Them's the rules of the queen bitch herself."

_Queen bitch._ I had a feeling he was talking about Therese. What did she have to do with this?

"You mean There-"

"Now serving number seventy-five…" The clerk called out. "Number seventy-five?"

I was the only one in the hallway. I stared at him until we made eye contact.

"Let me into the back room." I ordered him.

Suddenly, the man slumped and walked out of his little room. Like a drone, he walked around and guided me to the back room, unlocking the 'employees only' area for me. I walked through the door and closed it behind myself, waiting until I heard the clerk's footsteps walking away from the door. Once he was sufficiently far away, I advanced into the lounge.

"U-Um...what are you doing here?" I heard a scared voice ask.

I turned to see some kid dressed in scrubs. He had to be pre-med, probably an intern judging by how green around the ears he looked. His eyes were wide as dinner plates as he gazed at me, so I took the opportunity to make eye contact.

"Tell me where you keep your blood." I ordered him.

His eyes glazed over. "In...in the freezer down the hall."

I nodded. "Tell me everything I should know about this freezer."

"There's nothing outta the ordinary...but there's a keypad on one of the walls, leads to a secret door where we're keeping the specimen…"

Specimen? That was probably Lily. It seems like she was caught in an attempt to steal blood packs, and the doctors decided to keep her to run some tests, given the medical marvel that she was. It was a good thing that I stepped in when I did. I wouldn't want any of the doctors reporting their findings, or else that would be trouble for all of us.

"Tell me the key code." I ordered.

"Nineteen sixty-nine." The intern said.

"Thanks." I said, though it felt a little silly to be thanking someone I had under my spell. "Um...you'll forget this encounter ever happened."

The intern's glazed over look turned into a dazed look, as if he didn't know where he was. I took the opportunity to exit the room, walking down the hall to the freezer. Opening it up and walking inside, I went to the keypad and jotted in the code. The secret door opened, leading into the wall itself. I walked inside and pulled a lever I saw, which opened the way to a back room.

A girl, Lily, I presumed, was strapped to a chair with iron shackles. She was pretty, had that "girl next door" look, and wore a tie-dyed halter crop top and jeans with ratty sneakers. Her hair was short and strawberry blonde, and her eyes were blue. Her skin wasn't as pale as I'd seen with other Kindred. Was she a thin-blood too?

Even though she was bound, she still squirmed and struggled in her chair. She looked...absolutely feral. Yes, she looked human, but she behaved like some sort of caged, hungry animal. Judging by her last diary entry, she hadn't fed in at least a week. Is this what hunger looked like? Any time I get _slightly_ thirsty, I get the urge to tear people's heads up. Would I become some sort of feral monster if I ignored it for too long? Is this what the Beast looked like?

"Lily?" I asked.

Lily turned a gaze, her head dipped downward but her eyes looking at me. Her teeth were bared, which only served to make her look more feral.

"Hunger…" She moaned. "I _need_ it. A drop of it on my tongue, sliding down my throat, the hot flash in my brain lighting up my body… I can smell it everywhere...blood."

She was..._definitely_ not okay.

"Lily? Can you understand me?" I asked her. "I'm here to he-"

"Let me go." Lily growled. "It's painful...like I'm going to die. It's calling. Never felt like this before."

Violently, she began to struggle again, popping a few bolts off of the chair with the sheer force.

"LET ME GO!" She proceeded to scream. "I CAN SMELL IT! I HAVE TO HAVE IT!"

"Okay- hey...hold still. I'll let you go." I said.

I searched for some mechanism on the chair to see if there was a way to free her. Once I found it, I undid her binds, letting her go. In that same instant, one of the hospital's doctors walked in. As soon as he saw the scene, his eyes went wide. He screamed, "Sweet mother of God!" and tried to run away, but it was too late. Lily launched herself out of the chair unnaturally, bouncing off of the wall and tackling the doctor like a perfect predator.

Her body moved sinuously, almost sensually as she tore into his throat. I saw her tear out his jugular with her teeth and drink from him as if he were a water bottle. The sight was strange and slightly disturbing, especially with her pleased moans as she drained the bastard dry. He made choking sounds and tried to struggle, but she seemed to _like_ it, asserting her physical dominance over him and all but tearing him apart. It was no time at all before he fell limp, and Lily, now covered in blood, pulled back and looked at me, her expression alien, something between shame and pure, orgasmic bliss.

"The heat..._mmm_, it's never been so satisfying." She purred. "All of it. I drank until I heard his heart stop and I was sucking on a dry, dead artery. It was...euphoric."

She shuddered...but then she widened her eyes. The bliss in her expression was gone, replaced with shame, with terror. "But I've...I've killed him. I've never killed anyone before. What happened? What came over me?"

I pressed my lips into a thin line. "We call that the Beast."

"What happened - it's not who I am!" She insisted, seemingly trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince me. "I've never done anything like that before. I'm not a monster!"

I stared blankly at the corpse beneath her. Jack's words rang in my head again.

"It's who you are now." I said flatly. "It's who I am. It's who we all are now. Monsters."

"I tried to steal some blood." Lily continued, her expression becoming more and more panicked. "I'd heard they sold it - I was hungry and I can't hunt in town. They caught me and… I was strapped - trapped! Thought I'd never escape. But… I killed a man. I have to get out of here."

_That confirms my theory. _I thought.

"E told me about you." I said to her.

"E?" Lily asked. "You know E? I...how do you know E?"

"He asked me if I knew anything about thin-bloods, which is how I found you." I explained.

Her expression became saddened. I imagined with a look like that, she could get anything she wanted.

"I tried to tell E about his condition, but he was too furious at me for what I'd made him into. He...didn't listen." She said. "A thin-blood, from what I've been told, is a vampire whose blood is weaker than most."

That's it? A weak vampire? That didn't explain why the LA vampires were treating them the way they were, or why the Sabbat were saying they're harbingers of the apocalypse.

"Go on." I told her.

"Rolf, my Sire, told me some vampires consider thin-bloods to be a bad omen and want them destroyed." She explained further. "Rolf wasn't a thin-blood… but apparently I am. I don't know why. Rolf abandoned me. His group wouldn't take me in. They said I was a...liability."

Considering this entire fiasco, I was inclined to agree. I nodded and said nothing.

"He left me with so many questions." She lamented. "And I did the same thing to E. But I didn't want to leave him - he forced me out of his life. I...I should go. I have to get out of here. Maybe out of this city...soon."

"You should go see E." I suggested. "I talked to him before coming here. He says he forgives you. Says that the only reason he hadn't skipped town is because he wants to see you."

She raised her eyebrows. "E...doesn't hate me anymore?" She asked.

"No. The opposite, actually. You should talk to him." I answered.

"I'll go see him. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Bye." I said, walking to the door.

"Oh, about tonight…" Lily said, stopping me from leaving. "What I did...please don't tell E. It's _not_ my fault. I couldn't control it. I've never done anything like this before...I'm no killer."

I thought back to the beach house. She may not have been a killer, but I certainly was.

"You couldn't help it." I said. "I won't tell a soul. Goodbye."

We both walked out of the room, and Lily went out of sight, turning into some kind of mist and dispersing. I was going to leave the way I came when the clerk interrupted me, his expression very clearly irritated.

"Why'd you have to go and let that bitch out?" He growled. "There's one less Bill in the world now. Why'd you have to let her go and eat him, huh? Now I'll never get to do in that bastard myself. Well, you know what? No more blood for you. No more!"

I narrowed my eyes and bared my teeth until I was sure I looked as feral as Lily did. It was no wonder that humans could be monsters too. At least that hadn't changed. For a moment, I allowed my Beast to speak through me, just a little. Just enough to show him that I wasn't fucking around.

"How about," I snarled. "I take yours instead? Do you think you'd be able to stop me? Is there any doubt in your goddamn mind that I could _make_ you present your neck to me like the pathetic little lamb-for-slaughter you are?"

His eyes widened. "H-Hey, don't be-"

"Don't be _what_?" I growled, closing the distance between him and I. "It's either that, or you sell me whatever blood I want. At a _discounted_ price. Choose. You've got three seconds before I choose for you."

The clerk shivered. "O-Okay! Alright!"

I shoved the voice of the Beast to the back of my mind where it belonged and eased the tension in my ribs. Then I advanced down the hall, shoving the clerk to the side and walking back out into the night. I had learned what a thin-blood was, but not _why_ a thin-blood was. Just as I'd thought earlier, every time I got answers, I just got more questions. But at least I'd helped someone. I'd reunited E with Lily, just like I wanted to be reunited with Justine. Yes, Lily killed a man, but I was beginning to learn that no good deed was going to go unpunished.

The sun was going to go up in an hour or so, which clearly meant I should get inside before I experience whatever it is that happens with vampires in the sun. I didn't want to find out. As I walked to my apartment building, I felt a strange loneliness. E had loved Lily, and they reunited...I didn't love Justine or anything, but it would've been nice if someone were with me every step of the way here. Guiding me, giving me answers to the questions I had. But I supposed life wasn't always fair - and unlife doubly so.

I used duct tape to cover my windows, that way the sunlight wouldn't come in through the closed blinds. I looked at my digital clock. 5AM. I felt a deep weariness wash over my body as time went on, a weariness that far eclipsed anything else I felt. As soon as my head hit my mattress, I fell asleep. Tomorrow, I'd visit the Asylum and see if I can survive a feud.

* * *

**A/N: **Long one, I know. But this is the ending of the short second arc! It looks like Algernon is quickly learning what it means to be a vampire the hard way. I wonder how this'll effect him down the line?

Anyway, next chapter is going to be another Interlude from Grunefield Bach's perspective, so look forward to that! Again, thank you for reading. All feedback is appreciated.


	9. Interlude: The Holy Hand Grenade (Bach)

"Father! You have a visitor."

Grunfeld Sebastian Bach looked up from his scripture to the tertiary beneath him. He firmly nodded and made a gesture, signaling to bring the visitor inside. The Society of Leopold had been acting secretively since the end of the Age of Exploration. For someone to come to his stronghold without notifying him in advance? Already, this was creating red flags. But surely it wouldn't be one of those demons of the night - it was noon. Nor would it be a werewolf, for they'd rather slaughter than speak. What could be be dealing with, then? A witch?

The woman that came in didn't seem like a witch. Or rather, she didn't _feel_ like a witch. He didn't sense the black goat's taint on her. Rather, he felt a different type of taint. Bach couldn't explain, in human terms, how he _sensed_ the supernatural. All he knew - or at least believed - was that the Holy Spirit showed him who was human and who wasn't. The more he studied the scripture, the more he exercised his belief, the stronger his connection to God and His angels became. The stronger the connection, the easier he could sense the foul aura of those touched by Satan's minions.

She was appealing enough, as if Bach would care. She had long, curly brown hair and olive-toned skin. Generally, her ethnicity was hard to place. Bach would guess Sicilian, due to her deep green eyes, but her exotic features more resembled someone from Romania or Serbia - some Eastern European country. The Satan's whore that dared walk through his doors _smelled_ like...dare he say it? The demon he'd been hunting all of these years, mowing down his legions of fiends, as he will be 'till kingdom come?

_LaCroix._ He thought.

Normally, he'd smite the fiend on the spot, but he was curious as to why she came. Didn't she know that he would be able to sense the taint of her masters on her? No. How could she? The Society of Leopold's methods and abilities were a closely kept secret within the Church. None knew what they could do, except the Pope and God himself.

"Thank you for allowing me through your doors, Father." She said, her accent difficult to place. She sat down in the chair in front of him. Bach noticed that the v-line of her dress dipped low. Enticing, helpless. Even without the guidance of God Himself, he'd be able to tell this was a con.

"The House of God is open to all who wish to enter." Bach said. It was _technically_ true, but _technically_ a lie. "What is your name?"

"Wanda." She said. "Wanda Morozova."

Bach nodded a single time. "Okay. Wanda, what troubles you?"

Her seductive air disappeared, washing away and replacing with a troubled air. Bach had to admit, she was good. This would likely work on anyone who _wasn't_ him. Was she an actress before selling her soul to Satan?

"Back where I live...in LA…" She said. "I-I...I went exploring near the outskirts of the city. Came across a mansion that was abandoned. And...I-I was with a friend, right? We went in and we saw all of these madmen with black masks and straitjackets on. They were just...laughing. A-And then they attacked, it was awful…

"My friends died. But then a man came out. Saved me. He introduced himself as...Grout. Alistair Grout. H-He led me into another room and…"

Bach laced his fingers together, propping his elbows on the table. His expression remained neutral as he leaned forward, resting his lips against his clasped hands. He gave a single, infinitesimal nod as Wanda trailed off, not believing her story for a second, but behaving as if he did.

"Go on." He said.

She gulped, very deliberately sticking her chest out with the gesture. "And...and he tried to kill me! He had fangs and he was laughing like a madman and...oh God, it was horrible!"

When she said "oh god", she crossed herself. Bach closed his eyes, mentally doing a prayer to commune with the Lord so that he could discern the truth from the lies. From what he could tell, she had never gone to the outskirts of LA, but there _is_ an Alistair Grout that lives there. The reason Bach was in Southern California was to find LaCroix. Maybe if he finds and interrogates this fiend, then he'll spill on the location of LaCroix. It would be a fruitful journey. After all, where there was one fiend, there were hundreds of others sucking on the necks of God's children.

"This sounds very horrible, Wanda." Bach said calmly, almost coldly. "And you've come to us so that we may hunt this...Alistair Grout?"

Wanda nodded. "Yes, Father."

_That_ was the truth. Interesting.

Bach took a deep breath. "Very well." He said. "One more thing, child."

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Father?"

"I'm sorry about this."

Before Wanda could respond, Bach quickly drew his pistol from the holster on the side of his legs, shooting the whore of Satan right between the eyes. The bullet tore right through her skull, killing her instantly. The flesh around the hole blackened, slowly creeping across her body. Her taint was now revealed, the blackened tar color spreading across her body, ruining her exotic beauty.

Bach uttered a prayer beneath his breath. The hunters beneath him barged into the room, baring their guns, swords and knives.

"Father!" One of them said. "We heard gunshots. Is everything okay here?"

"Everything is better than okay, Brothers." Bach said, standing up from his chair. "The woman that had walked through our doors was one of LaCroix's minions, and I'd disposed of her accordingly. However, not before she gave us the location of one of the fiends she serves."

"She _told_ you where LaCroix was?" One of the hunters asked in disbelief.

Bach shook his head. "No, child. But she had given me the name of an Alistair Grout. A madman outside of Los Angeles. That is where we will start our inquisition."

"With all due respect, Father…" A hunter asked, "Could it be a trap?"

"No." Bach said matter-of-factly. "The Lord is guiding us to the outskirts of LA. And that is where we will go. He wills it."

The hunter bowed his head. "Of course, Father."

"Besides…" Bach continued, looking down at the blackened corpse of Wanda. "Where one demon is, a hundred more hide in the shadows."

All of the hunters _humph_ed in agreement.

Bach grabbed his coat and put it on, walking down the hall.

"Let's burn a village to kill a demon, boys." He said. 

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry! This one's a short one. Looks like Strauss' ghoul was sent to the Society of Leopold to take care of Grout! The plot thickens.

I also want to thank everyone who's been reading so far - and the one follower this story had received, you know who you are. It's great to see that people are actually reading what I put out. Thanks! And if you can drop a review if you've got the time, that'd be very appreciated!


	10. Madhouse 3-1

"Ooh, what do we have here?" A voice purred, audible above the almost industrial-sounding screamo music of the club.

I turned to see Jeanette staring at me as if she wanted to eat me. Everything about the Voerman sister was _pastel: _fair of hair, pale of skin. Her wardrobe, if it could truly be called that, consisted of a button-up that was rolled up and tied into a knot atop her stomach, revealing a generous amount of midriff and covering pretty much nothing at all. Her blonde hair was tied up into pigtails, revealing her mismatched eyes, one blue and one green. Her red bra was exposed beneath the thin white shirt, and she wore a blue pleated skirt that was just low enough to reveal the straps of her red thong, but high enough to not be decent by any stretch of the imagination.

She was absolutely captivating, encompassing a hundred percent of my attention. For a moment, I was speechless. But the Beast wasn't. Images of me tearing off her clothes, splaying her about in front of this entire club and making her scream my name played in my head. I wanted to see her helpless and afraid, powerless. Bound and gagged, bruised and cut and bleeding. I need to-

"Another scrumptious young plaything straight out of life and into my club?" Her purr continued, her head tilting. Wait, did she know I was a vampire? "_Mmm_...you smell new, little boy, like fabric softener dew on freshly mowed Astroturf."

I raised an eyebrow. What the fuck was she talking about? Astroturf?

"I'm not frightening you," She asked. "Am I, duckling?"

I played it cool. "Frightening isn't the word I'd use. Exciting is more like it."

She giggled at that, lowering her chin and looking up at me. I knew from literary research that that was a method of seduction. Made you look smaller, more appealing.

"I can tell you and I are going to get along like fire hoses." She said.

And she lost me. Again.

"Fire hoses?" I asked.

"When we get turned on," She drawled in a tone that would require me to take a cold shower if I were alive. "There's bound to be flames."

The Beast raged in the back of my mind, telling me to do things I wouldn't repeat out loud. I ignored it.

"Poetic." I said. "So, I know your name, but only by reputation. Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm the finger down your spine when all the lights are out." She explained. "I'm the name on all the men's room walls." - that one, I could confirm - "When I pout, the whole world tries to make me smile. And everyone wants to know...who...is..that...girl?"

"Jeanette." I said.

She giggled, grinning from ear to ear like she was having the time of her life. "This bit of chaos crammed into a certifiable giggle is my club. Oh, I'd just _love_ to give you funny feelings all night, sweetheart, but I really must trouble with some business."

I raised an eyebrow at that. Did it have to do with the feud?

"We'll reunite sweet and soon. I promise." She said, and before I could come up with a witty reply, she was off to the elevator by the dance floor.

"Okay then." I muttered. "Doesn't even remember seeing me around before tonight. That's a blow to the ego."

"_Duuuuude!"_ The voice of Knox came from behind me, somehow louder than the music.

I sighed. "Hello, Knox."

"You talked to Jeanette! Oh man!" He said in his usual lack of an inside voice, baring a ridiculous smile. "That's like..._oh man!_ You're in, dude! You're totally in! You gonna hit that?"

I raised an eyebrow. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't felt any desires that were explicitly _sexual_ since I'd been turned. Sure, the Beast had me wanting to do horrible things to women I'd looked at, but the focus wasn't explicitly sexual in nature. It was on domination, on hurting them and making them feel fear. I didn't necessarily feel horny anymore, just the desire to feed. To _hurt._ To _dominate._ I wondered if I even could have sex anymore.

"Never mind that." I said. "I actually wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Of course, bro!" Knox said. "Ask away."

"How exactly do you know about vampires?"

Knox's eyes lit up. "Dude! You would not _believe _it, man! Oh man - so I meet this nasty dude named Bertram Tung, right? And he tells me to suck on his wrist! And of course I was like, 'No, dude! I don't swing that way!' But then he convinced me and I did it! And...oh _man_ you wouldn't believe how it felt! I felt like a god, man!"

I nodded. So he was like Mercurio...and he drank Tung's blood. Interesting. I wondered if he knew where Bertram was. But first, I had to satisfy my curiosity.

"So, a human that takes in vampire blood…" I said. "Do you guys call yourselves anything?"

"Yeah!" He said like an excited puppy. "A ghoul! Oh man! We're like - faster, stronger. We can hear better, taste better, fuck better!"

I nodded, then thought of the redhead I saved. "And when you drank his blood...did you feel weird?"

"Yeah, now that I think about it." Knox said. "I felt a sorta...connection, y'know? To Bertram. I mean, not in _that_ way but kinda like...shit, I dunno man. I keep trying to find him so that he can explain this stuff to me, but I can't!"

I sighed. So he didn't know where Bertram was either. It was beginning to look like I was doomed to get involved with this feud.

"So you don't know where he is." I said.

"No!" He confirmed. "Which sucks, because he had an assignment for me and I think I'm in trouble!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Assignment?"

"Aw man!" Knox said. "Well, Bertram had me keeping an eye on this guy, this Asian dude who's been pokin' around Santa Monica. Bertram thought he might be a vampire or...something like a vampire. I dunno."

"Okay. Tell me about this 'Asian dude'." I said.

"Dude! This guy, this… this thing… got wise to me. Now instead of me watchin' him, he's watchin' me, you know. I see the guy appear around me all the time" - Knox cast paranoid glances around the room - "like off in the distance watchin' me, he'll… warp up next to me… aw man… then 'whoo' disappear."

I frowned, studying his expression. Something didn't feel right.

"Something is off about your story, Knox." I accused him.

Knox paled. "O-ho! What are you saying?"

I growled and peered into his eyes. I didn't have time for this bullshit. He was lucky I was even listening to him.

"Don't bullshit me, _ghoul._ Come clean." I ordered him.

Immediately, Knox shifted gears. "Okay, okay, okay. Damnit Knox, damn! Oh man, alright, look, I messed up, okay? I'm just doing what I was told, though!"

I nodded. "Go on."

"Bertram knew you were comin', knew you'd come by here." Knox explained, which made me raise an eyebrow. "He planted me and told me what to say about the Asian vamp, but it's true, I swear! And everything else is true too! This Asian guy needs to be taken out. I can't do it, so Bertram needs you to."

Sighing, I looked out to the dance floor. If I'm doing favors for people, I at least want to _see_ them face-to-face before I do it. But if Knox is telling the truth, that means he's in trouble, which I couldn't just ignore. Besides, even if I just called off the feud, that wouldn't guarantee that Tung would hurt me. Maybe if I scratched his back, this "Nasty Dude" will scratch mine.

"He could've just _asked_ me." I said, glaring at Knox.

Knox quickly shook his head. "Nu-uh. He can't stick his neck out like that. He doesn't deal directly. His way, I guess. So can you do it?"

I was starting to not like being treated like a pawn here. What made Bertram think _I_ could do it? Still, again, if I did him this favor, then he'd owe me.

"Fine." I said.

"Hell yeah!" Knox whooped. "Right on! Okay, like I said, he's some kind of Asian vampire… thing. Ya know. The only clue I've got is his driver's license that he dropped once while I was tailing him. I've been so freaked out that I haven't even had the chance to check it out."

He handed me the driver's license. The man I was tailing looked unremarkable, like a salaryman.

"Shouldn't this tell you who he is?" I asked.

"_No…_ the picture on the license isn't him." Said Knox defensively. "I don't know why he had it, but… well, it might help you find out where he is and what he's doing."

"Alright, I'll take care of it."

"Right on! Just come back and let me know the job's done so I can stop freakin' out! Maybe I'll see Bertram by then."

I nodded. I figured out that I should do this before I go looking for Therese. 

* * *

My investigation took me to the bail bonds place, where apparently the owner had a computer that allowed me to search any name that had a record. It was a bit of a shot in the dark, but it had to be better than asking random people. After typing everything in, I found a record for a bail bond:

_Bond written 03/25/02 -_

_Two Counts Public Disturbance - Drunk and Nudity._

_Case #766141._

_Bond amount: $5,000._

_Type of Bond: Cash - paid in full._

_Notes: Local._

_VOID: Subject's corpse identified. Being held at Medical Clinic Morgue. Authorities notifying next of kin._

That was strange. So the original owner of the ID had died months ago. What was this guy doing walking around with his ID, then? Either way, I was finally gaining ground on my amateur detective job. I swear, I need to start charging people for this. I could only imagine how much money I'd make running errands for people.

I entered the clinic and began sneaking again, slipping past doctors and the very flimsy security they had. Unfortunately, I had to enter a morgue through a hole in the wall but everything was relatively smooth sailing from there. I saw a chest, followed by a label that said, _Subject Belongings._ I picked the lock to the chest and opened it, taking out a golden ring and a key card to the box warehouse called "Foxy Boxes". I figured that was where I ought to head next, since it was the only lead I had.

A hop, skip, and a jump later, I was at Foxy Boxes. Using the key card to get in, I walked into the massive, industrial room where wooden boxes were stacked to the ceiling. Everything was dead silent...I couldn't hear a single thing. Suddenly, once I was at the center of the room, I saw a bright reddish-orange light illuminate the entire place as the lights in the warehouse shut off. I heard horrible chanting in another language, screams of horror. I saw that some sort of portal had opened, and a figure cloaked in shadow walked through.

The portal closed and the lights turned back on, revealing a deathly pale Asian man in a suit. He had on sunglasses, and instead of wearing a blazer he wore a leather jacket. His hair was slicked back, making him look like an extra from _Men in Black_ or something. In his leather gloved hand was a katana, though the wrapping around the shaft was ruined.

"I see you had found me." The man said. "Your kind is much more intelligent than I'd originally have given credit for."

The way he said _your kind_ with such disdain...it was strange. He was a vampire too, right? Why was he speaking to me as if I were an animal?

"Look," I said, raising my hands. "I just want you to stop bothering Knox, alright? I don't want any trouble."

"Oh, but it seems trouble has found you." He said, raising his sword.

I frowned. I _really_ didn't want to fight. Maybe I'd have been more confident if he was human, but this was a vampire. I didn't even know what he could do! If I was fighting against someone every bit as strong and fast as me, I wouldn't survive.

"Okay, buddy." I said, gathering my will to control my blood. "I guess it's trouble then."

The last thing I saw was the Asian vampire pointing directly at me, before I descended into Hell. 

* * *

**A/N: **Kinda filler-y since I'm covering a side quest, but it still has to do with the main story! Sorry about that. Hopefully you enjoy either way.


	11. Madhouse 3-2

Hell is Hell.

lThat much is obvious, but I don't think people realize what that means. Imagine the most awful, nightmarish imagery you can imagine...then amplify that a thousandfold. _That_ doesn't even begin to describe Hell. It's like the place was specially crafted to be all kinds of fucked up, to target all types of fears. It was less of a place and more of a formless maelstrom of pain and torment, only taking form to further fuck with you.

And I was there, in this nightmare dimension.

When I was younger, I used to _love_ vampires. I'd read Bram Stoker and even Anne Rice novels. So you'd expect me to be more prepared for this vampire bullshit, right? Well, no. This was _nothing_ like I'd expected. And I'd never read about vampires being able to throw others into some kind of hell dimension. From day one, I pretty much learned to forget everything I thought I knew, so at this point I wasn't too surprised.

I was in a field made of nightmares and nasty memories. Above, the sky was black as death, and the ground below me was squishy as if it were made from beaten flesh. The smell of rotting meat filled my nostrils. It was overpowering and, since I was undead, I didn't have the mercy of being able to gag. I tried to move, but it looks like I was slowly sinking into the "earth" beneath me. It was almost suffocating, the way that the ground just _digested_ me. And no matter how strong I was, I wasn't strong enough to escape.

"Vance?!"

Suddenly, I was at my parents' house in New Hampshire. It was a dark and stormy night outside. Rain pelted against the window, and thunder boomed outside. Below me was my father, splayed about on the ground, a pool of blood beneath him. I turned my gaze towards my mother, her face stained with tears. She held a shotgun in her hands, shaking like a leaf as she pointed at me.

What? This couldn't be real.

"M-Mom?" I asked, stepping forward.

She quickly stepped back, shaking even more violently than before. "D-Don't fucking move! Or I'll blow your fucking head off!"

_Woah._ I never heard my mother speak like that before! No, this couldn't be real at all. Yet...it _felt_ real. It felt more real than even my most vivid dream. I could smell the fresh, warm crimson coming from my father's corpse. I could _hear_ the rain violently splashing against the window, the loud _thrum_ of the thunder booming in the sky. Everything about this indicated it was reality.

"Okay, okay…" I said, raising my hands. "Mom, I don't...I don't know what happened."

"You're sick, Vance." She said, her tone harsh. "You broke into the house and killed your father."

"I-I...I killed him?" I asked in disbelief. That couldn't be true. I'd never kill my parents! But the situation was undeniable. My father's body was lifeless, I could tell by his lack of heartbeat. Judging by the situation, my mother had just seen me kill him. But none of this made sense. How could I have killed him?

"I...no." I muttered. "I was in...I was in Foxy Boxes, going after an Asian vampire…"

"Asian vampire?!" My mother barked. "You killed your father! Your father is _dead_!"

My eyes widened. "No! Mom, I-"

"I'm sorry."

A loud _boom_ and a kick, my mother blew a hole clean through me. I fell back from the sheer force, freefalling into an abyss. Nothingness. Had I died? Had she killed me? No, this was worse. I felt nothing, blanketed by absolute nothingness. If I closed my eyes, there would be no difference in what I was seeing. Surrounded by a void as far as the eye could see, destroyed by my own mother.

I woke up with my head in Justine's lap. Everything was as it was that fateful night. We were in the same cheap hotel. Justine was stripped down to her bra and panties, and I was naked. She'd just been humming something lightly while stroking my hair. The gesture was oddly...motherly. Although she couldn't have been a day over 23, her demeanor was much, much older.

"What..?" I started, my mind in a stupor.

"_Shh._" She said gently. "Your mind is recovering from the Embrace...it isn't uncommon to have visions."

"Visions?" I groaned. "I...I don't understand. First I was at Foxy Boxes, then… Justine, you're alive…?"

She smiled warmly. "Of course I am, silly. I was just going to tell you what you're in store for."

My vision blurred. Was I crying? Yes, I was crying. I didn't know why I was so overjoyed to see Justine. Maybe it was because the nightmare I'd experienced in the last two nights wasn't real. It's as she said: I was just experiencing visions. There was no LaCroix, no Mercurio or thin-bloods. They were all just figments of my imagination.  
My undead heart dropped as soon as I heard her cackling.

Justine's gaze was absolutely malicious. Her eyes were orbs of blood red, and her mouth was a maw of jagged teeth. Spittle and saliva flowed down from the corners of her mouth, dripping upon my flesh. As she cackled, her voice distorted, becoming deeper. Soon, her laughter was a chorus of laughter, absolutely inhuman. If _this_ was reality and what I'd experienced up until now was a nightmare, I wanted to go back to the nightmare.

"You _weakling!_" She roared, her voice the voice of a legion. "You couldn't stop yourself from becoming a monster! How many have you killed?!"

I rolled right off of her lap, colliding with the cold floor. I ran straight for my door, glancing back as Justine's form began to _change._ It expanded, becoming segmented like a centipede. Dozens of arms sprouted from her sides, faces and eyes growing all over her elongated, deformed body. All of the faces were contorted into malicious grins. Her body moved sinuously off of the bed, slowly drawing closer and closer to me.

My door wouldn't open for some reason. I repeatedly slammed my shoulder against it, only opening it on the third try, when the monster that was Justine was the closest. Without looking, I ran through, only to end up in my room again. It was as if I'd walked out of the bathroom rather than the apartment. Justine turned her deformed, bulbous head towards me, her mouth opening to be unnaturally wide. She moved towards me with utterly supernatural speed, tackling me to the ground. I tried to get her off of me, but I suddenly felt weak. She was too heavy.

"_NOURISH_ ME, WEAKLING!" One of her mouths roared. Once again, she cackled as her mouths began taking a bite out of me. Huge chunks of my body were removed, and I seized up from the pain. It was the most excruciating thing I'd ever experienced, being torn apart like this. Once again, I descended into the abyss, falling into the void of unconsciousness. Maybe I was dead and this really was Hell. Maybe I deserved this for what I did at the beach house. 

* * *

"Dude! Wake up!"

The choked-sounding voice of Knox Harrington awakened me from my daze. I was in Foxy Boxes, standing in the exact same spot I had been when the Asian vampire appeared. The vampire in question was currently on top of Knox, strangling him. I moved almost automatically, breaking into a sprint and slamming my foot right into the vampire's chest, sending him flying into the wall and bouncing off.

"Agh...thank you, man." Knox muttered, standing up but staying in a low crouch. "That dude is, like, _crazy_ strong, dude!"

I watched as the vampire slowly got up, recovering rather quickly. I didn't know how hard I kicked him, but I had a feeling he should've been down quite a bit longer than that.

"Knox, what are you doing here?!" I hissed.

"Oh man! I just, like, followed you here dude!" Knox said, using his normal tone of voice even though we were in the middle of a heated battle. "It didn't feel right to let you run into a fight with somethin' you don't know about, man! Especially not since you were so nice to me!"

I wouldn't exactly call my behavior towards him _nice_, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Either way, I didn't have time to, as the vampire immediately lunged. With surprising speed, Knox intercepted him, flanking him at the side and drop kicking him in the chest. That sent the vampire flying into a pile of wooden crates, making the entire structure come down on him.

Wow. Knox was a _lot_ more competent than I thought. I saw the same electrical aura that engulfed Jack engulf him, except it was different. Fainter. I suspected that he had a weaker version of whatever ability that Jack had.

"Dude!" He called out, kicking an object to me. I caught it with no problem. It was an aluminum baseball bat, the same as the one that Knox was holding.

The crates exploded into splinters as the Asian vampire rose. He moved quickly - so quickly that he was a blur - immediately clashing with Knox. Knox was just _barely_ fast enough to dodge the slash from the vampire's blade. I sprinted over to assist him, batting the vampire in the back of the head to prevent him from attacking again. He was to quick though, too quick. Before I could make contact with his skull, he was gone. I had to stop my swing before I hit Knox.

"What the hell?" I asked. "Where is he?"

"I told ya, man! He can just disappear and reappear." Knox warned. "Be ready, dude."

Suddenly, the vampire appeared out of nowhere and lunged. Knox was ready, though, and he swung his bat directly at him. I heard a loud _bwong _as the metal made contact with his head, denting the metal quite a bit and knocking the vampire down. I took the opportunity to attack, swinging my bat down like a hammer, but again the vampire was too quick. He swept my feet from under me and, in a fluid movement, kipped up. Knox attacked again, but the vampire spun gracefully and kicked the ghoul right in the chest, sending him flying into a concrete pillar.

I threw a kick towards his knee, but the vampire rose his shin and kicked me in the side of the leg, making my entire limb ring in pain and sending the kick off of its course. He stabbed his sword into my shoulder, which made me scream. That fucked _smarted_. Knox got back up and tackled the vampire to the ground, which the vampire had clearly been expecting. As they fell, he used the momentum to tumble so that he was now on top. I would've helped, but I was currently pinned to the ground. The sword pierced through me _and_ the concrete.

"Dude! You gotta" - He let out a pained _ugh_ as the Asian vampire punched him - "do something!"

I would've retorted, but I was in too much pain to say anything. He was right, though. Knox was a _lot_ more skilled than I'd originally expected him to be, but he was just a ghoul. An enhanced human. He was going against a vampire, and losing badly.

So, what were my options?

I couldn't reach into my backpack to grab my gun, not that it mattered. My tiny revolver wouldn't do jack shit to him. It wasn't like I had a shotgun or something useful for fighting vampires. He wasn't bleeding, so I couldn't manipulate his blood, and I couldn't focus for long enough to make him purge it. That put my options squarely in "jack shit" territory. For a moment, Knox gained the upper hand, pulling a reversal on the vampire and ending up on top, getting a few of his own punches in, but ultimately being reversed himself.

Okay. Improvise. What could I do? Well, I could see auras...which was useless. I could try to compel him, but even _if_ I could manage to make eye contact with the Asian vampire, I had some severe doubts that I'd be able to get him to do anything he didn't want to do. Maybe I could do something with blood? He wasn't bleeding at all, but _I_ was. If I could manipulate the blood of other people, why can't I control my own?

I cut my palm on the blade of the sword.

"Come on…" I muttered, closing my eyes. Surely enough, I found that deep, quiet power within my own blood. I focused on moulding it, forming it. Once I had a form in mind, I thrust my bleeding hand out. A cord of flexible, almost viscous blood shot out from my wound, sticking to the back of the vampire's neck and wrapped around his throat. I jerked back, making his skull slam into the concrete hard enough to create a crack.

Knox quickly got up, watching as my blood spread over the vampire's body at my command, sticking and binding to him.

"_Brooo!_ I didn't know you could do that!" Knox said. "Fuckin' Tremere, man! So cool!"

"Not now, Knox!" I growled. "Help me up!"

Knox muttered, "Ah shit!" Before coming to my rescue. He grabbed the handle of the blade and pulled back with what I presumed was all his might. It took a while, but eventually the katana was dislodged from my shoulder. I quickly got up, moving my arm experimentally. To my surprise, I could still move it and it didn't hang lamely at my side. Perks of being a vampire, I supposed.

"Give me the katana." I told Knox. "My blood isn't going to keep him down forever."

"What? Dude, no!" Knox protested. "You have a perfectly working baseball bat!"

I gave him a look, but had no time to say anything back. The Asian vampire broke out of the blood shackles I'd created for him, dashing straight for me. I swung my baseball bat, but he blocked my hit with his forearm, taking a hold of my wrist and disarming me. Once I was disarmed, he judo flipped me over the shoulder, slamming me to the ground hard enough to crack it.

Knox took the opportunity to attack, swinging the katana at the vampire's ankle. He hissed loudly as the blade sliced through his ankle like butter, making him stumble. I took the opportunity to clock him in the jaw, sending him crashing down to the floor. He tried to get back up, but his mobility was pretty limited without his right foot. Quickly, I got up and kicked him in the face, sending blood splattering across the floor. Knox sealed the deal, stabbing his blade through the vampire's heart.

What happened was...not what I expected. Instead of turning into ash like a normal vampire would, I watched as his body began to rapidly decay. One second, he looked normal - albeit wounded. The next? He was nothing but a putrefied carcass as if he'd been dead for months. For the second time that night, my nostrils were filled with the scent of rotting meat. I couldn't gag, so Knox gagged for me.

"_Dude!_" He whined. "That. Is. Gnarly! Aw man."

I turned to him. "Thanks for helping me out. I was caught in that vision and...well, I don't know what would've happened if you didn't step in."

"Oh _man!_" He said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I saved a vampire! I fought a vampire! Oh man, this is so freakin' cool! Oh man, oh man!"

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Hey now, calm down-"

"Oh, dude! I totally won't mention me having to help to Bertram." Knox said. "_If_ you let me keep this cool ass katana. Look at it, man! It's like a war trophy!"

I eyed the katana. Having something like that would be useful, but it isn't exactly easy to conceal. The prospect of walking around Santa Monica with a katana didn't strike me as very smart either, what with all of the cops and all. It probably wasn't very smart for Knox to do it either, but he could do what he wanted.

"Sure, dude." I said. "You can have it."

Without another word to each other, we walked out of the building. This was a very valuable lesson to me: don't underestimate people. That, and make sure you're sufficiently prepared before fighting a vampire. As I walked through the streets of Santa Monica, I thought about the visions I had. I saw my mother pointing a shotgun at me, and I saw Justine. How did he know what I feared? Did he go into my mind, or did he show me a world that showed me my nightmares? I shuddered as I thought about it.

_Things are just getting more and more fucked, aren't they?_ I thought to myself, continuing on into the night. 

* * *

**A/N: **Here's a more action-oriented chapter to make up for the filler that was last chapter. When originally adapting this side-quest to a chapter, I was a bit lost on how to make the fight with the Cathayan interesting since it's relatively bare bones in the main game. I figured I'd have Knox come in and help, that way his supposed competence isn't just an informed attribute like it is in the game.

Anyway! Thanks for reading this chapter. Reviews are appreciated.


	12. Madhouse 3-3

**A/N: **Thought I'd add my author's notes at the top like other people seem to be doing. Anyway, we're getting story progression in this chapter! And the last Santa Monica side-quest I want to cover. After the "Madhouse" arc, we'll e moving the story to Downtown after getting an Interlude from everyone's favorite Prince.

Shout out to the three followers I have now. You guys rock. And thank you to everyone that's been following the story! All feedback is appreciated. 

* * *

"Your city?" A muffled voice asked incredulously. "Last time I checked, it was called 'Santa Monica', not 'Stuck-up Bitch'!"

A gasp. "So vulgar!" The voice chided, as if she'd said the worst thing ever. "I can't even look at you sometimes, you Jezebel!"

"Oh Therese, you really do paint a flattering picture of me with your turn-of-the century barbs." The other voice remarked snidely. Jeanette, I assumed. "I always assumed you could do nothing but look down on me."

"Just the sight of you!" Barked the other voice, Therese. "The sight of that wicked, tainted pout concealing that dirty, diseased mind! Sin! You have no shame!"

An amused chuckle came from Jeanette. "Let she who is without sin cast the fierce tone! Go ahead and mock me. You pull your pranks, make fun of my ways. It suits you!"

"You're just one big joke." Therese said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Don't you call me that!" Jeanette protested.

"Oh? Should I start calling a duck a pig as well?" Therese shot.

"I'm your sister!" Jeanette whined, suddenly on the verge of crying judging by the sound of her voice. "How can you treat me like this?!"

Then came the sound of a door slamming.

"That's it, Jeanette. Run away from the truth. I'll take care of everything as always." Therese said, and I could just hear the smirk in her voice.

That didn't sound good. Not only am I getting involved in a feud between two vampires, but I was also getting involved in a sibling spat? Hopefully all of the drama will be worth it. I reminded myself that LaCroix wasn't exactly asking me when he told me to go to Santa Monica. If this was my trial, I hoped I'd have more than proven myself at the end of it and I wouldn't be running errands or involving myself in petty undead drama.

FInished with eavesdropping, I gathered my courage and walked through the door. It was clear they shared a room as soon as I went in. One side was an office space, complete with a desk and a computer, and the other side looked more like a hotel room, complete with a large, heart-shaped bed with red blankets and pink sheets. By the door I walked through, there was a massive mural with a painting of two little girls, both identical, and an older man with them. Was that their father?

"Please, come in." A woman said, greeting me at the door. She looked exactly like Jeanette, so much that they could be twins. But at the same time, she didn't. If Jeanette was hot and wild, she was cold and tame. As opposed to Jeanette's naughty schoolgirl getup, the woman in front of me wore a black blazer with a pencil skirt and pantyhose. She wore square-rimmed glasses that covered her eyes, which were the same as Jeanette's - one green, one blue. Her blonde hair was done up in a neat ponytail, making her look more mature and refined, over all.

"Thank you." I said.

"I do apologize for my sister's crassness if it made you uncomfortable." She said politely. "She's unabashedly scandalous, but… in the club business, I suppose that kind of personality is a necessary evil."

I nodded. She had a point. Personally, I couldn't think of a single club owner I'd met that wasn't scandalous. "Jeanette? Thank you, but she was no trouble."

"Nonsense." The woman said quickly, dismissively. "She's nothing but."

My lips pressed into a thin line. "Well, you do seem a lot more...together."

"That, I am. My sister's schoolgirl-in-distress act may bring patrons in, but it's my level-headedness that keeps it open."

"You're Therese, I presume?"

"Therese Voerman, yes." She confirmed. "I am the proprietor of this club, and the only person in this city whose good side it's in your best interest to stay on. What brings you to Santa Monica?"

A subtle threat. Nice. In a way, she reminded me of LaCroix. She had that same noble, high-and-mighty air about her that I couldn't quite say I liked very much. But what she said was true enough. If I pissed her off, I doubt she'd even consider calling off her feud with Tung.

"I need you to call off the feud with Bertram Tung." I said. "I need his help with something."

"Tung's exile is self-imposed, I assure you." She told me. "But then, what reason would I have not to hate that loathsome Nosferatu scoundrel? Bloody Nosferatu. They're so...unclean."

I tilted my head. That was a new word.

"Nosferatu?" I asked.

"Ah, right." Therese said. "You must be the neonate that LaCroix freed. It explains you not knowing of the clans. We Kindred are divided into clans. The Nosferatu are one of them and, unfortunately, one of the more common ones. We all have a curse related to our clan. The Nosferatu? Their clan is that they're hideous...filthy. And because they are so tainted, they primarily crawled around in the sewers."

That made me shudder. As if I wasn't afraid of sewers enough.

"Why do you hate him?" I asked.

"He meddles in my affairs. He's a bad influence on my sister, and she on him." Therese said. "If you were in my place, would you let him compromise your authority? You most certainly would not. I'd quite like it if I never had to hear that name again.'

This was a bit more complicated than I thought. The utter conviction that Therese spoke with gave me the hint that she was one of those people that never changed their mind. Furthermore, I was in no position to advocate for some guy I didn't know.

"Then can you put out the word that you've got no feud with him?" I probed.

"And why would I do that?" Therese asked, her tone quizzical. "Let him think I mean to kill him - that way, I don't have to worry about him sabotaging everything. Do you realize how his subterfuge makes me look to the Camarilla?"

"That's unfortunate, but I need to see him." I said.

"Tung and his co-conspirators' actions ruined my chance at partnership in a crucial piece of property. I do have several other promising ventures, and one in particular has been, to say the least, an ordeal."

For a moment, I wondered why she was telling me this. Then I realized she was giving me an in.

"Go on." I said.

"I'd be willing to put a word out that my grievances with Tung have been swept under the rug…" She continued. "But in return, you'll have to remove a particularly burdensome spirit from a property I'm looking to invest in."

My eyes nearly bulged out of my skull. Did she say spirit?

"A spirit?" I asked, my tone coming across as a little more nervous than I'd have liked. "You mean a ghost?"

"I forget that you're new to this." Therese remarked. "Allow me to break you in - yes, ghosts exist. Werewolves, mummies, and I'd expect a whole lot of other things I've never seen share the night with us."

I gulped. Werewolves? Mummies? I was hoping that feeling in my stomach wasn't actually it doing a gymnastics routine. This was all becoming too much. There was already a lot to learn about vampires alone, now I was living in a world with werewolves, mummies, and ghosts too? Ghosts? And I was going to meet one? I could barely survive a fight with another vampire! But it seemed this was my only in. Therese was giving me an opportunity, and I'd figured I better not squander it.

"Okay, I'll do it." I said hesitantly. "What do I have to do to get rid of the ghost?"

"Rumor is that the personal item of a ghost may be used to draw it out or excise it from its haunt." She said. "While I don't put a lot of stock in hearsay, it's my last option. So I want you to go to the Ocean House hotel, find an item of the spirit's, and bring it back."

The Ocean House hotel? I heard rumors that the place was haunted, but I'd never listened to them. Until now, I didn't even believe in ghosts. Now I had to go and face one, steal something that it owned, and...it might not even work. It might just piss it off even more.

"I'll do it, but you have to promise to call off the feud." I told her.

"Oh, I fully intend to do so. You'll find that dealing with me, on the whole, is appreciably more predictable than dealing with some of the egomaniacs that are my peers." She said. "As long as our business doesn't go sour, my word is gold."

I could appreciate that. She was something of a noble demon, which I imagined was an advantage when you were a figure of authority like she was. She may have given off a real "cold bitch" aura, but at least she was trustworthy. Another bonus of this job was that I wouldn't be killing anyone.

"I can respect that. And I appreciate it." I said.

"Before I forget, take this." She handed me a key. "The only way to get to the Ocean House this time of night is through a tunnel in the sewers. You'll need that key to open the gate for that tunnel."

"The sewers?" I suppressed the urge to sigh. "Alright...if that's what it takes."

Therese walked behind her desk, sitting down on her chair.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to set straight." She said.

I nodded and turned to walk out of the door. Before I left, however, I looked back at her.

"I had a question." I said.

She looked up at me, her expression unreadable.

"You said that we're all divided into clans... " I began. "Bertram is Nosferatu, I guess I'm Tremere...what clan are you?"

Her eyes went from me to her computer, her expression still unreadable. As the artificial light from the computer shone onto her face, she looked more like Jeannette than ever.

"A word of advice, Kindred." She said, her voice a low monotone. "Ask questions that you'll get answers to." 

* * *

I wasn't going to enter a haunted hotel without being prepared. Hell, I didn't want to enter a haunted hotel at all. Needless to say, the fight with the Asian vampire had taught me that I needed to be prepared. Since using my vampiric abilities drained my blood supply within, I knew that I wouldn't always be able to fall back on them. What if I encountered a vampire that could perfectly counter my abilities, or one that was tougher than the vampires I've fought thus far? I realized now that the goal was to survive. And to do that, I needed to make sure I could survive a fight.

Entering the Pawn Shop down the street from my apartment building, I entered and passed through the chain-linked gate that separated the door from the area where the merchandise is. The man on the other side of the bulletproof glass was so pale, I thought he might be another vampire for a second. His hair was flat and asphalt dark, and he had beady, brown eyes. He was very clearly a drug addict.

"Uh. He-hey…" He stammered once I entered.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Uh, how's it goin'?" He managed. "You, um, lookin' to buy or sell or…?"

"Buy." I said. "What's your name?"

"They call me Trip. I own the shop."

I nodded as I browsed through what he had. I saw a combat knife in one of the glass cases. It wasn't much, but it could sure as hell do more damage than my pocket knife.

"So uh…" Trip asked. "You new to Santa Monica?"

"In a way." I said idly as I browsed the other items. Most of them were things I had no interest in, or weren't suitable for combat. "Is it that obvious?"

Trip made a tsk noise. "It's not a big surprise. We get new faces through here night after night. Used to be more tourists but now… I dunno, man… it's more like drifters."

"Do new people scare you?" I asked, glancing at him. "Heard on the news that there's a serial killer running around."

"Yeah, it's freaking me out, to be honest." Trip agreed. "I'm open all night and Santa Monica police don't rank amongst the nation's most worthy."

That made me snort.

"What, are the killings happening around here?" I asked.

Trip all but shrank in place. "Ohh. I dunno. I heard earlier someone at the pier got ripped up like that poor bastard in Long Beach the other day."

I raised my eyebrows. "No way."

"I'll tell ya," Trip began. "Crazy stuff happens all the time and it's like we just get used to it; just go on our way, 'doot-dee-do'... But this… I dunno, these killings are chilling."

"Yeah, you can say that again." I agreed. "Hey Trip...do you sell weapons around here?"

Trip's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "N-No! Why would I...no, man. That shit's illegal."

I shot him a look. "You didn't even sound like you believed that."

The Pawnshop owner cast paranoid glances all around, then he relented.

"Okay, fine." He said. "I sell weapons. But it isn't cheap, dude. It's going to cost ya. Here's what's in the inventory…"

He pulled out a drawer and took out quite the selection of guns, followed by holsters for all of them. What caught my attention were the sawed-off shotgun and the GLOCK. The pistol would be good for humans, and the sawed-off would be pretty good against vampires. With those and the combat knife, I felt I'd be pretty well-armed against most threats I encountered.

"The shotgun, the pistol, and the knife...about twenty rounds each. How much will that cost?" I asked.

"One thousand." Trip said.

I flinched. I only had $200.

"Any way I can get a discount?" I asked.

Trip rubbed his chin, narrowing his eyes. "Well...maybe. I knew a pretty cool guy, bought weapons from here. His name's Carson, but he went missing."

Great. More errands for people.

"Okay." I said. "I'm guessing you want me to look for him?"

Trip nodded. "Yeah, dude. I'd do it myself, but I'm asleep during the day, and at night I'm stuck in here. He's a bounty hunter, works for Kilpatrick's Bail Bonds across the street. If you go over there, I'm sure he'll be able to tell you where he went."

I looked at the weapons. Was this really something I should be getting involved with? Could guns even hurt ghosts anyway? I assumed not, but it was still worthwhile to be better armed. Besides, looking for a missing bounty hunter sounded much better than stealing a ghost's personal belongings. Therese didn't give me a time limit, and she didn't intend on killing Tung, so it seemed I had a little leeway.

"Alright, I'll do it." I decided. "If I do, you gotta sell everything I just asked about for $150."

Trip crossed his arms. "$200."

Nodding begrudgingly, I said, "Fine. Deal."

I left the Pawn Shop and walked across the street to Kilpatrick's Bail Bonds. I entered and watched as the pale, chubby face of Arthur Kilpatrick himself looked back at me. Finding a missing bounty hunter at midnight? What could possibly go wrong?


	13. Madhouse 3-4

**A/N:** This was a chapter I've really been looking forward to writing. I hope you enjoy! 

* * *

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" A singsong voice toned, strangely inhuman and ferocious. Considering who - no, what was looking for me, I think "inhuman and ferocious" is an appropriate assessment.

I was hiding in one of the closets in this man's underground dungeon. It was a relief that I didn't have to breathe, otherwise I'd be hyperventilating like hell right now. I heard the footsteps of the monster coming after me right now, eerily close but without direction. Completely out of options, I couldn't help but wonder just what the hell I'd gotten myself into this time. At first, he seemed like a completely normal human. He was even genial, like a friendly uncle or a drinking buddy. Now? I didn't know what he was.

I glanced through the crack I'd created in the door, watching as one of his elongated limbs wriggled about sinuously and unnaturally as if it had a mind of its own. It would make sense if it did; after all it was, I'd gathered, someone else's arm. The body of the thing that was once the doctor turned in my direction, and I quickly moved to hide myself. Fuck, I could hear him walking closer. I went completely still, like a statue as I heard his footsteps get closer and closer.

"Come on, chap!" His inhuman voice intoned. "I don't want to hurt you! I only want your strong, beautiful arms. Just one!"

I squeezed my eyes shut. Manipulating his blood was out of the question, because Carson was right behind one of the locked metal doors, watching the scene unfold. Just because crazy supernatural serial killers existed didn't mean he had to learn about the existence of vampires. So I was now limited to my same old human options. I didn't get to buy the weapons I wanted at the pawn shop, so I had even fewer offensive options. I could try fighting him hand to hand, but I didn't like my chances against someone who had like ten arms.

"There you are!" The inhuman voice purred.

When I opened my eyes, I was face to face with the killer, Stanley Gimble himself. One of his long, distorted arms grabbed me, lifting me with unnatural ease. His other limbs grabbed my arms and legs as if examining them. The prosthetist grinned ear to ear, his crazed eyes studying my expression. The fact that his face was still humanoid somehow made this even more terrifying, as if this were something out of a horror movie.

"Such beautiful limbs…" He said. "Unfortunately...you've seen too much."

He flung me across the room like a ragdoll, making me hit the metal door hard enough to create a dent. I grunted and fell to the ground, blacking out almost immediately. 

* * *

"Welcome to Kilpatrick 24-Hour Bail Bonds. My name is Arthur Kilpatrick. How may I help you?" The Bail Bondsman asked, his tone indicating he does this at least a thousand times before the night is over.

"Hey, Trip across the street sent me." I told him. "Said that Carson is missing?"

Arthur's fake smile faltered. "Yeah, I dunno where the hell he went. He was a damn good bounty hunter, great at what he does when he wants to do it. Can't find him now, though. He's pissin' me off, to be honest. I need him to go find someone."

"I can go look for him for you, if you know where I might find him." I said.

"Yeah? That'd be pretty nice. I'll even pay ya for your time." He told me.

"I could use more money." I said, nodding. "Where should I look for him?"

"I suppose the first place you should look is his apartment in Santa Monica Suites - apartment one, I think it is." He said. "Maybe you'll find somethin' there to let you know where he got himself to. Here's a key card, that'll let ya in."

He handed me the key card. Funny, Carson apparently lived in the apartment across from Mercurio. Small world.

"Alright, I'll go find him." I said. "How much are we talking in terms of payment?"

"Prolly like...I dunno, four hundred? Three hundred? Name your price." Arthur said.

I could practically see the dollar bills swimming across my field of vision.

"Four hundred is good." I said. "I'll be right back." 

* * *

Carson's room didn't look like what I'd imagine a bounty hunter's room would look like. It was so...normal. Maybe this was the movies getting to me again - and if there's anything I'd learned these past two nights so far, it's that the movies were mostly incorrect about anything. I didn't hear any heartbeats other than Mercurio's across the way, which meant that Carson wasn't in there. I sighed to myself as I looked around. Nothing can ever be simple anymore.

Might as well earn that discount and that four hundred. I thought to myself, checking everything I could possibly find in the room that would help me discern Carson's location. There was nothing on the coffee table except a cup of coffee that had gone cold, probably meaning he hadn't been in his apartment for a while. I walked to the table and found nothing but newspapers, nudie magazines, and a box of cigars. Just when I was ready to give up, I found a key on the top of the TV. On the key ring, I saw the logo of the tattoo parlor down the street.

I walked over to his recording machine and turned it on. Hopefully it would give me insight on where Carson went.

"Check, check. Is this thing recording?" The voice said, presumably Carson's. "God, I hate these things. Anyway, the uh, McGee case is getting weirder and weirder. I found where he's been hiding and I found some really creepy stuff down there. There was no sign of McGee, but I'm gonna follow up on another lead I got too. I updated the files on the computer. This is Carson, signing off."

The recording ended.

So, it seemed that Carson disappeared while working on another job. Something about a missing guy named McGee. What did he mean "creepy stuff"? Could he have encountered something supernatural? Santa Monica seemed absolutely saturated with it, after all. It could also have to do with the serial killer going around.

I sat down on his couch and opened his laptop. It looked like accessing his files required a password, but I was able to bypass that with the hacking software I'd downloaded into a thumb drive after I inserted it into his computer. After about five minutes, I had access to his files. I selected the one that said "location", and it opened a document that read:

_McGee is hiding in the tattoo parlor in Santa Monica._

That pretty much confirmed what I was thinking. Carson had to be at the tattoo parlor, but why hadn't he returned? The date on the note had a timestamp on it. It was written earlier on this night, but it was hours ago. Would it really take that long to subdue a criminal? I had to be thorough anyway, so I exited out of his computer, closed it, and walked out of his apartment building. The tattoo parlor was just up the way, so it wasn't very long of a walk.

The inside of the tattoo parlor was dirty enough that I wouldn't be comfortable getting a tattoo there. The ceiling was stained, the paint on the wall was chipping, and the tiled floor was just barely clean enough to be presentable. Because it was closed, nobody was there. Before I walked in, I extended my supernatural senses to see if there were any alarms. Astoundingly enough, there weren't.

I heard the faint sound of a phone ringing downstairs. It was odd...but it definitely wasn't something I couldn't handle. After all, it wasn't a ghost - or probably wasn't. I followed the noise to the stairs. After walking down, I took the ringing phone off of the receiver and put it to my ear. There was no voice on the other side, which was really starting to make my horror movie senses tingle.

"Hello…?" I asked.

"Hello!" The genial voice on the other end said. "Might I speak with Mr. McGee?"

"Um." I said. "He doesn't seem to be here at the moment. Can I help you?"

"Well, I'm not sure." The man said on the other side. "I had an appointment with him a few days ago, but he never seemed to show up. Do you know when he'll return?"

This was rising a few red flags. Why was he calling a closed tattoo parlor?

"I don't, actually." I told him. "What sort of appointment was this?"

"Well, Mr. McGee was going to be doing some modeling for me!" He chimed up. "Medical reference for the work I do here in the studio. It's a shame, really… the proposition would've been quite lucrative for him."

Something about this wasn't right. Carson's tape leads me here, and as soon as I walked in, I get a phone call from this guy? I had a feeling that if I was going to find the bounty hunter, I'd need to get to this guy.

"Yeah? Maybe I can model for you in his place, then." I offered.

"Why, yes, that sounds delightful!" He said. "Perhaps you can come down to my studio and we can sort out the details."

"Sounds good." I said. "Where are you located?"

"I'm at the end of Main Street, a small basement studio. The sign says Gimble's Prosthetics. Just ring the buzzer and I'll let you in."

I'd seen the place before. Gimble's Prosthetics. I knew exactly where he was.

"Sounds good. I'll be right there."

"Yes, may I help you?" The voice from the phone asked.

"Hello? Yeah, I spoke with you on the phone a little while ago." I said, speaking into the buzzer.

"Oh, right, right! I'll buzz you in."

With a loud buzz I heard the door open. When I walked inside, I saw a very clean office with a man standing behind a desk. He looked like any old nobody, with combed over hair and slightly pale skin, presumably from the lack of sunlight. He wore a dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and a blue tie. I noticed he was missing an arm and that it was replaced with a prosthetic limb. The man looked completely normal. I was expecting someone creepier looking, but this guy looked like any guy I'd find on the street.

"Hello! Welcome to Gimble's Prosthetics and Medical Supplies!" He greeted me. "You're here for the modeling job?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He eyed my arms and legs for a second in a strange way, like he was looking at a juicy steak. "Good, good. You seem to have rather...well developed limbs, if you don't mind me saying so."

I didn't really know how to respond to that question, so I said, "Thanks. Um...so who are you?"

"Oh, yes, forgive me! My name is Gimble. Stanley Gimble." He introduced himself. "But, oh… dear, let us dispense with the formalities - you can call me Stan."

"Okay, tell me a little about yourself, Stan."

"Me? Oh, I'm just trying to make things a little easier for those who find themselves, erm, disadvantaged. Giving a helping hand, you might say - a leg up."

He chuckled as if what he said just now was at all remotely funny.

"Bloody clever, that one." He murmured.

"Right…" I said. "Can we get started?"

"A-ha! An eager participant!" Stan chimed, grinning widely. "Very good. Just give me a few moments to get my… equipment… ready, and then come on in, we'll get started!"

"You do that." I said.

Stan left me in the office alone. Maybe nothing nefarious was going on here. Maybe he was just a normal guy - albeit, a creepy guy. This was probably a dead end. Carson wasn't there. Well, I might as well go ahead and model my limbs if Stan was going to pay me. How long could that possibly take? I could definitely use the money too. Everything was finally working out for me.

Just to be sure, I extended my senses beyond myself. At first, I heard nothing, but then I heard a heartbeat, a very quick heartbeat, as if its owner was panicked. The second thing I noticed was the smell of blood. How could that be? I assumed Stan had to keep things sterile to make prosthetics. Either way, this crushed any hope I had of Gimble being a normal guy. Sighing to myself, I decided to investigate, walking through the door that Stan went through.

The inside immediately creeped me out. I saw this smaller room, complete with a cot and a rug, completely closed off by a chain link fence. The cot was stained with blood. Any alarms going off in my head earlier were returning with a vengeance. Against my better judgement, I advanced downstairs and was displeased to see that things only got worse. There were entire rooms covered in blood, with dismembered limbs inside.

"Yep, of course this guy is a psycho." I muttered to myself as I advanced down the stairs. "Of course this ends up being a fucking horror show."

As I went deeper and deeper into the studio, things got more and more fucked up. Eventually, I found a room that was just full of the amputated bodies of men and women. The smell of death filled my nostrils as I looked at their lifeless bodies. Some of them were very clearly penetrated and stabbed multiple times. What the hell happened to them? Did Stanley do this? I hadn't even seen this type of savagery from vampires.

I went down the last staircase to find an empty room with a chair bolted to the ground. As I advanced into the room, I heard a loud bang against one of the locked metal doors. I flinched as I saw a man press his face against the bars, his hands frantically gripping them. I could see that he was shaking like a leaf and missing a finger. His heartbeat was going at five miles an hour, and I could just smell the fear.

"Hey!" He said. It was Carson, I recognized the voice. "Hey, you have to get me out of here, man!"

"Carson?" I asked. "Hey, Trip and Arthur sent me to come look for you. What the fuck is going on?"

"The guy is a freakin' nut job! No, he isn't even human!"

I frowned. Not even human? Well, he wasn't a vampire, because I could hear his heartbeat upon meeting him. What was he then? A werewolf? No, that couldn't be it. It wasn't like I knew the first thing about werewolves, but I had a feeling that their MO wasn't dismembering people and then fucking them.

"Who, Gimble?" I asked.

"'Who, Gimble?"" He mimicked me incredulously. "Yeah, Gimble! That guy's been takin' pieces off o' me and McGee for the last three hours! He's a monster, man! A fucking monster!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down." I said. "Where's the key to this door?"

"Right here…"

A loud, growling and inhuman voice chimed behind me, and I saw Stanley Gimble himself walk through the door. This time he looked...different. Very different. His shirt was off, revealing a mass of arms and hands sprouting out of his back in the dozens. Each appendage that came out of him was a different color, length, and shape as if they were taken from someone else. Some were thin, some were muscular. Some were long, some were short. They all wriggled about unnaturally as if they had minds of their own. Stanley wore the grin of a madman as he walked through that door, his prosthetic limb discarded and his one other arm holding a cleaver.

"I told you to give me a few moments!" He barked, his limbs wriggling about and moving in response to his words. "Now I have to punish you for not following instructions!"

Between seeing the amputated bodies, the freak with a bunch of limbs, and Carson missing a finger, that was about all I could take for this little job. My flight or fight reaction kicked in and the Beast took over for a brief moment. I sprinted across the room and threw a right hook right at Stanley's jaw. Instead of shattering it and breaking his neck like I was expecting, he just...took it. Then he smirked at me and punched me with one of his many limbs, sending me flying across the room. My Beast, after finding out that "fight" wasn't working, picked "flight" and I took off out of the room. 

* * *

I woke up on a bloodied cot, my wrists bound with leather straps. Stanley sat on a chair by the cot and reached out with one of his elongated limbs to caress my face. It felt cold and slimy, and I absolutely hated it. His psychotic gaze captured mine, and that set me off again. I began to thrash in the cot, but it was bolted down so I couldn't even move it without expending effort.

"Truly, you're something remarkable." Stanley mused. "I checked your pulse. You have none. You're dangerously below body temperature, and you have unusually pronounced canines. Truly, I've never encountered something like you."

"Don't fucking touch me, you freak." I spat. "What are you?"

Stanley chuckled maliciously. "It's a pity that I don't know that myself. Do you know how I got my start?"

I didn't say anything. Stanley spoke anyway.

"I was a wee boy, cutting off the limbs of birds in my mother's backyard." He said, continuing in that polite, genial tone as if he were talking about a fond memory. "It was quite the fascinating experience. After a while, I got older and found that birds weren't enough, so I tried on my neighbor's daughter. That gave me quite the kick, if I do say so myself. It was also the time I lost my virginity. Oh, my poor mother was distraught, truly. She didn't want to accept it, so she hid all the evidence. We moved, it was swept under the rug, but I kept doing it. I liked doing it. It arouses me, if you don't mind me saying.

"Then, as I was in college, I decided to take it to the next level. Yes, it gave me pleasure, but I wanted to see how they felt! Surely it felt as good for them as it did for me. So I cut my own arm off. It was quite painful indeed, but enlightening, arousing. I never came so much as I did looking at myself with my stump of an arm. It was very alluring. And that's when it happened, when I became something beyond human."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I...ascended." Stanley said, that inhuman tone to his voice returning. "I became more. Now it wasn't just about getting off, but becoming something beyond human. I took their arms, legs, fingers...and I found that I could give myself. Truly, could you say you've seen a being more perfect than me?"

"You're sick." I spat. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

"Didn't I explain that?" Stanley asked. "I like doing this. You won't believe how hard this makes me. I get off on it, seeing their helpless bodies wriggle and cry in futility, because they lost their limbs. Oh, it's such a good show! Mr. McGee died too early, unfortunately. That's why I'm going slower with Mr. Carson. And then you…"

He rose his cleaver. Placing a hand on my chest, he held me down. I struggled, but it was worthless. Somehow, this thing was every bit as strong as me. Before he could chop down on me, the cries of Carson downstairs echoed loud enough to be heard upstairs. Stanley seemed to be attempting to ignore him, but the cries became louder and louder. Gimble sighed loudly and began to walk to the opening.

"I ought to check on Mr. Carson." He grumbled. "Teach him that it is rude to interrupt a man's art."

While he had his back turned, I dug my nails into my palms hard enough to create welts. Blood spilled forth from the new wounds, and I focused on it, shaping it into something that could unbind me. They became razor sharp wires, rapidly cutting through the leather that bound me. My arms were free right after Stanley walked through the chain-linked gate, and I silently unbound my legs as well. Quickly, I got out of the bed, pissed that something this fucked up was happening. The lights flickered on and off as my power began to engulf me.

"Hey, Stanley." I called out.

The serial killer turned around, and before he could even say anything, I thrust my hand forward. The room went dark, and the only light was from the bolt of electrical energy that surged forth from my palm, hitting Stanley square in the chest. His muscles seized up and he fell to his knees, shaking violently. I yelled in utter fury, thrusting my other hand forward and hitting him with even more lightning. Stanley's skin fried and I could smell his blood evaporating. The lightning died down, and Stanley's lifeless body lay limp on the floor.

I looked at my hands. Holy fuck, how did I do that?

I didn't have time to question it. I grabbed Gimble's keys off his corpse and ran downstairs, unlocking the door to Carson's cell. He rushed out, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Oh my god. Thanks, man! You're a lifesaver." He said. "I wasn't sure I was gonna make it. I'm tellin' you… I've been on some weird cases, but this is a whole fucking other level."

"You got that right." I mumbled.

"You said Arthur sent you, right?"

"Yeah. And Trip from the Pawn Shop."

"Oh, man, that's solid! I owe them big for that. I hope I can get them back for this."

"He's got some work for you. You should head back to the office."

"What? Oh, no, man. No, no, no. Not for me anymore. Look at my hand!" He held up his right hand. He was missing two fingers. "Gimble took my trigger finger for a trophy. I'm all through with this business. I hate to leave Arthur in a lurch, but that's the way it is."

I sighed. Hopefully Arthur would still be giving me that four hundred.

"I understand." I grumbled. "Well, I'll give him the bad news. See ya." 

* * *

"Hey, man. Carson stopped by." Trip said, taking out the weapons I'd selected hours ago and placing them on the table, followed by ammunition for each. "Said that you saved him, but some crazy shit happened."

"Crazy shit is right." I said, placing two hundred dollar bills on the counter. Trip took them and opened up the register.

"What kinda crazy shit? He won't tell me." He asked as I loaded everything into my backpack.

I thought back to the lightning I shot out of my hands. How did I do that? Could I do it again? It looked like my powers extended beyond just manipulating blood. It made me wonder what else I could do. I experimented with my powers a little bit to refine my control over them, but I didn't even know where to begin. There were so many things about this world I didn't know...vampires, ghosts, werewolves and, apparently, serial killers with supernatural powers.

"Believe me." I told Trip, crumbling the receipt he gave me and shoving it in my pocket. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."


	14. Madhouse 3-5

**A/N:** The third arc and "part 1" of this fanfiction is almost done! Adapting the Santa Monica segment of the game proved to be challenging but fun!

Also, for those wondering, I didn't make a chapter for the Ocean House hotel because I couldn't figure out a way to adapt it into the story. I feel like it was perfect for the video game medium because you'd be experiencing it, but it's tough to put it in a story medium and give it the same feeling, you know?

For those curious, the disciplines that E and Lily display in this chapter are from Bloodlines 2. Nebulation and Mentalism respectively. Anyway, thanks for reading, and feedback would be appreciated if you have the time! 

* * *

I walked through Therese and Jeanette's door with the ghost's amulet in hand. After my experience at the Ocean House hotel, I was positive that I never wanted to mess with ghosts ever again. Several times I'd almost died, but against all odds I'd gotten the ghost's personal belonging. In a way, it was satisfying knowing that I'd given the little girl peace. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to get hacked up like that by my own father. It was chilling to think about.

When I walked through their door, I was surprised to see not Therese, but Jeanette greeting me. She'd boredly been lounging on her bed, sitting up very quickly as if ready to attack. When she saw me, she scoffed playfully, tilting her head and looking at me with that wide-eyed, faux innocent look that she gave everyone.

"Not even a knock?" She drawled, cat-like gaze examining every ounce of my being with eyes that just knew. Knew what, exactly? I didn't know. "I could've been undressing, and who knows what I would've had to do to you?" - The way she said that sent a shiver down my spine, prompting nasty thoughts from my beast - "You're here to see her royal majesty Queen Victoria, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I need to see Therese." I managed.

"Therese is making a show of how well her lips fit on the pants seat of the Camarilla." She said, adding an extra bit of venom when she said Camarilla. Did she dislike them like Jack did? "Did you happen to find her chastity belt or something?"

She eyed my pocket, and the way she did it made me uncomfortable with giving the amulet to her. Jeanette was...friendly, I supposed, but she wasn't exactly the type of person I'd allow around children. I wasn't going to give the amulet to her.

"I'd rather discuss this with Therese." I said, hoping I sounded firm.

"So…" She said, completely ignoring me. Like a cat, she padded over to me, swaying her hips in a very deliberate fashion, slowly closing the distance between us. She continued once she was practically pressed against me. "Therese told me you might be back with something for her. Do you have it with you?"

No, something was definitely fishy about this. I said, "I'm not giving it to anyone but Therese."

Suddenly, the sultry, seductive act was gone, replaced with sadness. The way Jeanette switched her act at the drop of a dime made me think she did this all the time, and it usually worked. Seeing the way she made herself look smaller, helpless, sad made me see why it did work.

"I'm not just some silly doll, you know." She lamented. "All my life, my sister's made me out to be a joke. She told you I was an embarrassment, didn't she? That I couldn't tie my shoes, let alone hold onto something for her! Is that it?!"

This situation was immediately spiraling out of control, and that was probably what she wanted. The thing about crying - especially women crying - is there was a social implication around it that was hard-wired into our brains. Whenever someone cried or whined, we wanted to make them stop. But I couldn't succumb to it. If I didn't give the amulet to Therese, the deal would be off.

"Not at all." I told her. "Please, calm down."

"She's always belittling me!" Jeanette continued, escalating. "She's the smart one, she's the favorite, she's the successful one. Well, it's not fair! I'm not a fool! This club's success is just as much my doing as it is hers!"

"I understand, but I still can't give it to you." I said evenly.

She tried a different tactic. How her voice was lower, barely above a whisper. "Do you understand what it's like to have your own flesh and blood ripping you apart on a daily basis for two lifetimes? Can you?"

I stonewalled her. "I'm sorry to hear that, Jeanette, but I really need to give it to Therese."

And just like that, the sad act was gone. Her demeanor wasn't seductive anymore, either, just neutral, confirming that it was all an act. Jeanette was good at this, but unfortunately for her, I had quite a few psycho exes in the past that prepared me for this behavior.

"Fine. You hold onto it." She said. "Hmm...since you were so willing to brave that big, spooky place for my darling sister, how about doing a teensy, tiny favor for little, troubled me?"

I sighed and said, "Depends on what it is."

"Do you know Gallery Noir, down the street?" She asked. "I happen to know there's a charity event being organized there. Lots of influential Santa Monicans slithering in for token appearances. But there's one thing they don't know…"

"That being?" I asked.

"The whole event's been set up by a Kindred trying to establish their own power clique in our city." She answered. "And we can't let that happen, can we? So I need some brilliant young upstart to spoil the milk."

I blinked. Am I seriously being asked to do someone's dirty work? Before it was performing favors for favors, but now I was legitimately getting involved in something that had nothing to do with me.

"I need to talk to Tung." I said. "This isn't helping."

Jeanette chuckled as if I was joking. It was condescending, almost. "I thought we went over this? Therese isn't here. Until he hears it from her, Bertram's like a windshield in the deep blue sea."

I furrowed my eyebrows. That was a strange analogy.

"Invisible." She elaborated.

Crossing my arms, I said, "Fine. What do I have to do?"

She giggled. "I promise this won't take long. Take that knife of yours and give the paintings in the gallery a good slashing. Don't get caught, and don't turn it into a massacre. And steal the charity box, would you? Buy yourself something velvet."

That last part was a little too much for me. Jack said that these would be the last of my sins before the night is over, but stealing from charity was a pretty big sin. And what? Just to keep a vampire from establishing themselves in a city that I had no stake in? How exactly what I benefitting from all of these awful things?

"No, I can slash the paintings, but I'm not stealing from charity." She said.

Jeanette frowned. "Do you believe it's actually going to charity? Oh, honey… it's only going to be used to fill the pockets of the Camarilla. Trust me, darling, there won't be a single starving kid in Ethiopia that'll see a cent of that."

I paused. She probably had a point there. I doubted vampires were the charitable type.

"Fine." I said. "I'll be back when it's finished. This time the feud will be called off?"

"I'm sure Therese will be thrilled to honor your agreement when you get back." She said, her eyes filled to the brim with glee. "But in the meantime? Get to the museum and ruin those paintings, then pay me a visit. I want to hear all about it… Hurry up, I can only amuse myself for so long."

"Wouldn't keep you waiting for too long." I said. "Be back soon."

Before I left, Jeanette said, "Oh, by the way! The paintings are protected by some sort of ward. Some sort of Tremere spell. You have to slash the paintings in the order of the events they happened, otherwise it'll just hurt you if you try. There was something else about the paintings, but what was it…? Mm...oh well! Can't remember. Have fun, duckling!"

That gave me a bad feeling, but I ignored it. "I will."

Gallery Noir was one of those places that two types of person went. One was the rich art connoisseur that looked at a painted wall and swear that it's a metaphor for the artist's place in society, and the other would be the faux art student that only pretended to understand things, and only liked art to seem like an interesting person. I was never either of those types. Personally, I never considered myself an artistic person. I was awful at all forms of art except for writing, I supposed, and even now that was taken from me. Whenever I tried to write, I'd find that what I'd come up with had very obviously been done already. It's like my ability to form an original, creative thought had been taken away.

Well. Vampirism was called a curse for a reason.

When I approached the gallery, I was immediately stopped by a security guard. This guy was morbidly obese, so obese that I couldn't tell where his torso ended and his neck began. He was bald and couldn't be younger than fifty, and he wore a blue button-up shirt with a star on his breast that said Security Guard. He looked like the archetypal rent-a-cop buffoon, but I noticed the pistol strapped at his side. Regardless of how stupid you were, anyone was dangerous with a gun.

"Hey!" He said, stopping me. "Hey, hold on a minute there. I'm afraid you're committing a 351, that's trespassing on private property. I'm gonna have to ask that you vacate the premises immediately or I'll have to radio this in."

Something about this guy made it impossible to take him seriously. I didn't feel threatened at all by him. This is the security that the gallery hired?

"Open the door." I compelled him.

That telltale glossing-over of his eyes happened, and I saw the gears turn in his head for a second.

"Uh, sure…" He said. "Yeah, I can do that. Right this way."

I nodded. "Please."

He walked with me to the entrance of the gallery and unlocked it. I grinned tightly at him and walked through. The gallery was, for the most part, completely empty except for four paintings. Two of the paintings showed scenes from the Bible, but the other two were scenes I didn't recall reading about in Sunday School. The paintings were labelled as: Caine slays Abel. Caine gets punished by God. Caine meets Lilith. Caine spurns Lilith.

Weird. I'd never seen Cain's name be spelled with an "e" at the end. Maybe it was spelled like that in some different copy of the Bible? I knew there were thousands of versions out there. Maybe Cain also met this Lilith girl in that version too. I knew from studying mythology in college that Lilith was the real first woman, but she was cast out from Eden for refusing to be subservient to Adam.

Remembering what Jeanette instructed me, I began to slash the paintings in order. When my knife came in contact with the paintings, there was a flash of red light, but after that, nothing. Once I had slashed the paintings in order, I found out that my bad feeling upon leaving the Voerman sisters' room was entirely justified.

A weird symbol glowed in front of all of the paintings, a circle with strange rune-like symbols along the edge. A red liquid - blood - began to pour out from the ruined paintings and gather at the middle of the room, forming into a semi-solid lump. At first, the lump was nothing but a formless, writhing mass, but then it took shape, turning into something only vaguely humanoid. It was featureless, and had long arms with long, sharp talons at the end. The silhouette made from blood began to move stiffly and unnaturally, slowly gaining more and more fluidity to its actions until its movements were more like a xenomorph's.

That isn't something you see every day.

I didn't have the time to look at it much, because it immediately jumped at me with all of the ferocity of a wild, starving animal. It hit me hard, solid enough to knock me down but liquid enough to secrete blood on my clothes. I tried to get the thing off of me, but it wasn't even solid enough to move properly. It turned into liquid and then spilled all over me, reforming beneath me into its humanoid shape and flinging me across the room. I hit my head hard against the table and all the painting supplies fell all over me, ruining my clothes.

"Already getting tired of this." I growled, getting up. The blood construct lunged at me again with its sharp claws, but I was ready. I dodged and it splattered all over the wall, just a blood stain on the brick. Immediately, it reformed, its claws digging into the stone. It lunged again, but I dodged, this time stabbing my knife into its back. It was as futile as I imagined it would be; the blood construct was made of, well, blood, so I ended up going right through it. Quickly, I got up and ran to create some distance between the construct and myself. It didn't let me, and lunged right at my back, slashing me hard enough to leave a nasty cut near my shoulder. I screamed out and squirmed to force it to go liquid again, and it did. I used the opportunity to get away.

Think, Algernon. I thought to myself. What did I learn from this thing? Well, I assumed it had to be solid before it attacked me, or at least solid enough to exert meaningful force. It seemed to be bound to some kind of center of mass, otherwise it would just multiply and attack me with two of itself. And when I focused to try to see if I could manipulate the blood it was made of, I couldn't.

By all intents and purposes, this thing seemed to be invincible.

It lunged again, and I dodged just in time for it to not slash my head off. This time, it got me in the stomach. My blood poured from my wounds, and I got an idea. I sensed some kind of energy flowing into this thing, like a circuit. Whatever made this thing move, it wasn't self-generated action. I had to find a way to cut off the energy. Using my blood, I commanded it to connect to my blade, engulfing it and hardening. If blood was the medium through which whatever magic kept this thing moving, then it stood to reason that I could use my blood to interrupt the flow of energy.

Right?

I may have been pulling it out of my ass, but the working theory I had was better than anything I'd come up with so far. Again, the construct lunged at me, but I dodged, grunting as it got me in the side of the stomach. I dove down to the ground, summoning the power I used on Gimble. The tips of my fingertips felt hot and I shot forth an arc of lightning from them at the blood construct. The lightning conducted off of the iron content within the thing's body, forcing it to seize up as if it had muscle mass. Taking the chance, I lunged at it and slashed my blood knife straight through its midsection. It wasn't hard at all, like cutting through butter. Runes glowed on the blood construct's body, then they died down. The construct then fell into a puddle on the ground, slowly shrinking as the blood evaporated.

"Jesus H. Christ, things just keep getting weirder and weirder." I said out loud to myself, limping over to the nearby desk and opening the charity box. It seemed it got me in the leg at some point too, though I wasn't sure of when. After going through that ordeal, I opened the charity box and stuffed a majority of the dollar bills into my pocket. Now I had about two thousand, which meant I'd be pretty good in terms of money for a while.

"Fuck this place." I muttered to myself, exiting the gallery. Luckily, it was raining pretty heavily, so the blood from the construct washed off of me for the most part.

After a few times feeding, I was good as new. I went back to The Asylum and rode the elevator up to the Voerman sisters' room, walking through their door. I was surprised - and displeased - to see a very pissed off Therese, glaring daggers at me. If looks could kill, I'd have been atomized on the spot. There was no sign of Jeanette, which left me wondering what the fuck I did.

"You!" She hissed. "What were you thinking?!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Um-"

"The museum!" She chided. "That was my event! Did you think I wouldn't find out?!"

Uh-oh. Now I was in deep shit. Jeanette tricked me.

"I-"

"Shut up!" Therese barked. "I thought I could control my sister as long as Tung is out of the picture, but nothing's changed! I should've expected that you'd succumb to Jeanette's influence like all the others. But how dare you!"

Okay, keep calm. How could Therese possibly know what I did? Maybe I could lie my way out of this.

"I didn't do it, I swear!" I told her.

"Jeanette claimed you did it for her." Therese said, her voice dripping with venom. "But let's say I believe you. After all, you've acted decently and rationally up until now. I imagine you'd still like me to call off the feud?"

"Yes, I have the item from the Ocean House…" I said, taking out the little girl's amulet. "And a diary from there too. Hopefully this balances things out."

Therese's expression suddenly became more pleasant. "Excellent! I'll take that. However…"

However? I thought. Oh god, please don't let there be a 'however'...

"There's only one problem." She explained. "If Tung gets word I'd threatened Jeanette, which he most certainly already has, it's not likely he'll believe me. So, in order to call off the feud, you're going to have to convince Jeanette to forgive me first."

I was about ready to punch through a wall. More of this shit? It's bad enough I slashed up a gallery and got my ass handed to me for no reason, now I was going to help someone make peace with her sister? This had nothing to do with me! Still, Therese probably had a point. I'd heard through the grapevine that Tung and Jeanette were close. If I wanted to get to that Sabbat warehouse, I was going to have to cooperate.

"For Santa Monica's most powerful Kindred, I'd be happy to." I said, trying to put on my best smile. "But...I wasn't aware you threatened her. Is that why she isn't here?"

"Yes. I've made some threats against my sister - idle threats - involving fire and her impious satin sheets. She took them quite seriously and is avoiding me. I want to meet with her, and smooth over matters."

"What do you need me for?"

"I asked her to meet me at the Surfside Diner, to reconcile, but I'm busy with the club and my other endeavors. I'd like you to go and promise her I don't intend on taking any action against her. Wait for her in the back booth, near the phones."

So I was really doing this because she was too busy? Really? I had a feeling I was going through the equivalent of hazing.

I sighed. "I'll go. Then the feud is off?"

"I want to see my sister." Therese snapped. "Yes, I'll call it off when I see her myself. Just do as I ask."

I was getting really tired of the both of them. Jeanette with her melodrama and Therese with her demands and her cold demeanor. Where was my respect? Yes, I know my Sire broke the rules, but I've been trying to act as decently as possible. And what were people doing? Treating me like an errand boy. Hell, whether the thin-bloods were a sign of the apocalypse or not, they at least treated me with decency.

"I'll do." I said begrudgingly.

It took all of five seconds to realize that this was an attempt on my - or Therese's - life. Either Therese called the thugs to the diner and told them to shoot as soon as they saw me go to the back booth, or Jeanette told the thugs to shoot as soon as they saw someone look to the back booth. It had to be one of those things, because whoever set this up was savvy enough to know that vampires couldn't just eat shotgun blasts. As soon as I saw a cocking of a shotgun, I dove behind the bar, narrowly dodging a shotgun blast that instead blew a hole through one of the waitresses.

When I walked in, I counted three of them, each of them armed. I reached into my backpack and grabbed my GLOCK, leaning over to peek and taking a shot at one of their knees. My aiming wasn't precise enough and I got him in the lap instead, but that was still enough to knock him down. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to get him out of commission. I moved behind cover again as another shotgun blast boomed in the restaurant. Patrons began running out in droves, and the thugs stopped shooting either because they needed to reload or out of sheer pragmatism.

I took the opportunity to vault into the bar. Now it was just them and me, which meant I could let loose. Grabbing control of the blood that had been shed, I went from undercover and shot one of them with a hardened blast, sending them flying through the window. While I was out from cover, one of them took the opportunity to get a pot shot on me. The force knocked me back on my ass, and it created a pretty nasty hole the size of a soccer ball in my chest.

Jack was right. Shotguns fucking hurt.

"So long, freak." One of the thugs said as they pointed the shotgun at my head. I wasn't able to move, the pain was so great. Just what kind of fucking ancient witch or deity made the decision that vampires were weak to shotguns?

Suddenly, a mist covered the thug that was about to land a killing blow on me. The mist was blue, glowing, and almost solid, coiling around the thug's throat and the life out of him. The thug's lifeless body fell on me, and I had to summon all of the strength I had to push him off. I grabbed the edge of the counter and forced myself up, flinching as I heard more shots from a shotgun. I saw Lily and E near the entrance of the diner, Lily conjuring up clouds of mist that obscured the thugs' vision, and E outright tearing them apart. The final one tried to shoot, but he had to reload, so he wasn't able to. Terrified, he backed up against the wall.

"Sorry, mate." E said to the thug. "Can't let you kill my friend."

He thrust out his hand, and one of the shotguns that the fallen thugs were holding flew to him. He grabbed it out of the air and quickly pointed it at the thug, shooting him right in the midsection. With a loud boom from the shotgun, the thug was dead.

"E?" I rasped, cringing as I felt a searing pain in my ribcage. That would be a collapsed lung. "Lily?"

"Oh god. Lil, looks like we were just in time." E remarked. "Hey, Al. You're not looking so hot."

"I'll be fine. Just...just a flesh wound." I said. "It'll patch itself up...ah fuck…"

Soldiering through the pain, I directed my blood to heal the wounds that I'd gotten. It was working slowly, but the gaping holes in my body began to slowly close up.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"Rosa told us you'd be in trouble." Lily explained.

"Rosa?"

"One of us, the spooked-looking gal you see on the beach." E explained. "Said she helped you find where Dennis and his gang was."

I recalled the woman on the beach. She seemed to be speaking riddles last time I'd talked to her, and I couldn't find her since. Did she know I'd be attacked in the diner? If so, how? Considering how Therese treats thin-bloods in her city, I doubted that they had any verbal contact at all.

"We all came to help you out." Lily said. She stepped aside and I saw the rest of the thin-bloods from the beach walk in. They all looked green and scared to death, but they came. It made me smile. For harbingers of the apocalypse, they were pretty decent people. Much better than the other vampires I'd come across.

"But why?" I asked.

"You helped me find Lil here." E said, wrapping an arm around Lily and smiling. "You were also the only vamp that came around and didn't try to help us. Far as we're concerned, you're alright."

Before I could say anything, I heard ringing from the payphone near the back booth. The thin-bloods glanced at me and I shrugged, walking over to the phone and answering.

"Hello?" I asked.

"I'm terribly sorry about that." The voice on the other side said. It was Therese's voice...or was it Jeanette's? "My sister was just furious about your refusal to take part in her designs, so she sent those men to kill you. But I'm going to make sure it never happens again. Drop by, we'll take care of this Tung business."

"She's crazy! Help!" Another voice, either Jeanette's or Therese's interjected.

I hung up the phone.

"Who was it?" Lily asked.

I grimaced. "Nothing but trouble."


	15. Madhouse 3-6

**A/N: **And that's the end of Madhouse! And part one. Next is an Interlude chapter showing what LaCroix has been up to this whole time. Thanks for reading, and remember, feedback is appreciated! 

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Every time I think I've seen everything, I just keep on getting surprised. When I walked into the Voerman sisters' room for the second time that night, I saw Jeanette holding a gun. It looked like she'd been attacked by some wild animal; her blazer was off and recklessly thrown on the ground, revealing her white silk blouse, which was torn near the bottom. Her pencil skirt is torn halfway up to her hip, exposing a generous amount of thigh. It's when she turned to me that things became confusing.

Half of her face was like Therese's: light makeup and eyeshadow. Her hair was down - or at least half down, because the other half of her face was like Jeanette's: heavy, Jezebel-like makeup, red lips, dark eyeshadow that was run-down as if she'd been crying. With the way that Therese or Jeanette or...whoever she was looked, she looked like some kind of insane asylum escapee. Now I knew where their nightclub had gotten its namesake. They - or she - was completely out of her fucking mind!

"You!" Came the voice of Therese, slightly lower and menacing. Authoritative. "I'm really sorry it had to end this way, I truly am. You seemed promising, but...you've been tainted by the stink of my sister's schemes. And now, I'm going to make sure she never double-crosses me again."

"Don't listen to her!" Said Jeanette's voice, higher pitched and chirpy. Scared. "She'll kill us both! Save me and I'll help you find Bertram, I swear!"

"Shut up, Jeanette!" Therese barked. "I warned you to stay away from Tung - he's turned you against me! I always looked out for you! But you couldn't handle my success! You had to meddle, didn't you? I didn't want it to end like this, but you forced me!"

"You never gave me any credit for anything, Therese! I was the one calling the shots!" Jeanette protested. "Bertram was dancing on my leash! How does it feel to know that I've beaten you?"

For my part, I had no idea what the fuck was going on. From what I could gather, Jeanette and Therese weren't two people, but one person with two different personalities. That was a lot to swallow, but it was, funnily enough, the most believable and mundane that I've seen tonight, so I was just going to go with the flow. They or...she was a powerful member of Kindred society, the one running Santa Monia. They were two parts of a whole, so I wasn't sure it'd be a good idea for one to be rid of the other.

"Why are you both fighting?" I asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Therese asked. "I'm about to rid the night of this deviant, back-stabbing whore! Do you realize that, despite her condition, she still...fornicates - with kine, no less! So… unclean!"

"You're one to talk, dear sister." Jeanette said, her tone menacing. "Or should I say...Daddy's Little Girl? You - Algernon. Do you want to know just how depraved the Baron of Santa Monica can be?"

"Shut up, Jeanette!" Therese hissed.

I didn't say anything. I just let her continue on her maniacal rant.

"You'd love the world to think you're a saint." Jeanette continued, despite Therese's protests. "When you thought I was asleep, I used to hear father come in at night. I would hear him whisper into your ear how much he loved you before he-"

"Don't finish that sentence or you're dead!" Therese interjected, cutting her off. I needed to gain control of the situation before she did something rash.

"Both of you stop." I said firmly. "This is pointless."

"Don't you want to hear what happened?" Jeanette asked. "How she became the pillar of the community she is today?"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Therese growled.

"Stop it right now. Both of you." I said.

"Don't try to stop me!" Therese barked at me. "I've had to overlook her treachery, her seduction, her relations with my enemies - and the consequences of it - but I won't endure her any longer."

"Endure me?" Jeanette asked in disbelief. "Dear sister, you've done everything you could to smother me. You'd love to bury me in your closet, along with all of your other skeletons."

"I'm the good girl, you're the wicked one!" Therese insisted. "You've done nothing but plot against me - when I had our best interests at heart. And despite that, I've always covered up your mistakes. I've taken care of you. And this is how you repay me?"

"Taken care of me?" Jeanette asked, cackling. "You've done nothing but keep me down, blamed me for every mistake. Did you expect me to let you rule my life until the end of time? No, sister, you've had it coming since our last sunrise."

"Is that right, dear?" Therese shot back, narrowing her eyes. "If it wasn't for me, you never would have survived this long. Remember? They tried to separate us, but I refused. I chose this life and brought you into it so that we could stay together. Obviously, you've forgotten."

They tried to separate them? Who was they? I had so many questions, but I obviously wasn't going to get answers from this raving madwoman.

"If you both want to continue to exist, you're going to have to live with each other." I reasoned.

"She's a control freak!" Jeanette protested. "People, things, emotions - if she can't control something, she gets rid of it."

"And you're a wild animal!" Therese sniped back. "You'll rub up against anything that'll take you in for the night, then, when you're stuffed and bored, you bite the hand that fed you."

I had to think of something. Appeal to something that would appeal to the both of them. What did they have in common? What did all vampires have in common?

"Both of you have been working against the other." I said, shooting in the dark. "If you both work together, you'd be a power."

For a moment, she seemed to consider it. Then she shook her head.

"I don't think that's possible." Therese said. "How could I trust her again?"

"Trust me?" Jeanette asked, incredulous. "Who could trust you after what you did to father dearest?"

"Father loved me." Therese said matter-of-factly. "I was a good girl. I always did what I was told. You always hated that he loved me. You disobeyed him. You bought men home when he wasn't there. You were an awful daughter to him."

"That's all in the past now." I said. "Forget about it."

Jeanette ignored me. "Father came home drunk one night and mistook me for Therese, because I'd fallen asleep in her bed."

"Don't listen to her!" Therese shouted. "She's lying!"

I was losing control of the situation.

Jeanette continued, "Therese walked in while he was there and she saw me lying with him. And so, she went to the closet and took out his hunting shotgun, loaded it with deershot, and blew his mind all over the silly clown wallpaper."

"That's a lie!" Therese protested. "Father killed himself because of Jeanette! She made him miserable!"

"As I recall…" Jeanette said, a wicked grin showing up on her features. "Daddy died with a smile on his face."

"No matter what happened, you two need each other." I told her.

"Why?" Therese challenged. "How will this time be any different?"

"Think of how powerful you could be if you worked together." I reasoned.

"Therese doesn't like to share." Jeanette intoned.

"Jeanette's irresponsible. She's undependable. A venture like mine requires class and distinction, which is something a pig-tailed, face-painting harlot does not lend very well." Therese said.

"You do have a way with words, sister." Jeanette said. "You're right, I'm not in the same class am I? I mean, murderers are so respectful these days."

"Therese," I said, addressing one of the personalities. "You have to let Jeanette have more responsibility."

"More responsibility?" Therese challenged. "So she can ruin every opportunity I give her?"

I groaned. There was a type of person who did this as their job, and they got paid no small sum of money to do this. Here I was, helping a crazy lady make peace with one of her personalities, saving the stability of Santa Monica.

She continued. Jeanette spoke this time, "Of course. You're the only one who can secure zoning permits and shake hands. I'd never be able to keep up!"

"Jeanette," I said, addressing her now, "You have to stop sabotaging your sister's plans."

"But I only do it for attention!" Jeanette whined. "And out of love."

"You do it because you're vindictive and jealous." Therese barked.

"And you deserve it!" Jeanette growled.

"If you'll call a truce and run this place equally," I reasoned, "There'll be no need to kill each other."

"If she would stop treating me like a child!" Jeanette said.

"If she would stop behaving like a rational adult!" Therese countered.

"You both must've gotten along at some point." I tried.

Her expression softened. Jeanette said, "Yes...there was a time."

"When I was a child, I didn't have many friends." Therese said. "I suppose Jeanette was the only one. We never did go out of the house much. Father would never let us."

"He said we'd get hurt." Jeanette added. "So we stayed inside and imagined our own worlds. And we spent so much time there, together, ruling over those places. Those were -"

"- happier times." Therese finished for her. "Before we grew apart."

"See?" I asked. "You don't really want to kill each other, right?"

"I never did." Jeanette admitted.

"No...I guess I don't." Therese admitted also. "Jeanette: if I were to give - no, offer you equal control in Santa Monica, would you quit consorting with Tung?"

"I'll stop working with you against him… but since I've got him in my pocket already, there's no reason for me not to pay him a visit once in a while, when he can be of use." Jeanette offered.

"That's not a bad plan." Therese agreed. "There's just one more thing: I want to be in charge of Santa Monica - but only publically. I want you to continue to convince others that our relations are strained, that way - "

" - we know who our enemies are." Jeanette said, finishing the sentence. "I agree."

"Therese, give me the gun." I said.

"Take it." Therese said, handing me the revolver. "I'd hate to see it again and think of what almost transpired. I suppose now that Jeanette and I settled our differences, I'll call off the feud with Tung."

"Therese will tell Bertram that the feud is off and he'll reach out to you when he's ready to meet." Jeanette said. "I'll ask him to be extra nice."

I put the revolver in my backpack. "Thanks, both of you."

"Please give Santa Monica's regards to the prince." Therese said.

"And keep your tongue tied about what happened tonight." Jeanette added. "Otherwise, we'll have to…"

"Kill you." Tourette said.


	16. Interlude: Legacy (LaCroix)

**A/N: **Short chapter! Just the interlude between part 1 and part 2. I'd thought I would show you guys what LaCroix is doing. 

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_"Sebastian, you had promised the destruction of the Anarchs within California two years ago."_ Said Justicar Marcel Lachapelle, LaCroix's sire. They were in his penthouse suite, conversing with each other in French so that the Sheriff, nor the other Ventrue in the room understood what they were saying. Marcel understood the importance of appearances, even when scolding his childe.

_"Of course, Justicar Lachapelle."_ LaCroix replied, his tone remaining meek, but even to give a dignified appearance among the other Ventrue. If he bled in front of them, they would close in like sharks. _"My apologies, Justicar. Things are...not going as I had originally planned."_

The Justicar's expression was unflinching, unchanging. He eyed LaCroix with dispassion, a look he rarely gave his childe.

_"What are the obstacles to your plan, Archon?"_ He challenged. _"When you make a commitment to take the capital of the Anarch Movement for the Camarilla within a year, it sounds promising. Ambitious, but promising. So I notify my superiors...and yet, you do not deliver. Are you aware of how this reflects upon the Ventrue?"_

LaCroix paused, then nodded obediently. _"Of course, Justicar. It is something I will be hoping to rectify-"_

_"Do not hope to rectify, Archon."_ The Justicar said, a subtle growl in his voice. _"Successfully rectify. Or else it will be rectified for you."_

_"Yes, Justicar. What I mean to say is I cannot get the Camarilla to support the extermination of the resident Anarchs."_

_"And why not, Prince?"_ The Justicar emphasized "prince", pointing out that he shouldn't have to wrestle support in his own court.

LaCroix composed himself and said, _"The Tremere Primogen, Maximilian Strauss, opposes the effort."_

The Justicar narrowed his eyes. _"Enough about the mages. Continue the extermination without his support. If he meddles, execute him."_

_"With all due respect, Sire, that would be suicide."_ LaCroix pointed out. _"The Camarilla's position is already very sensitive as it is, with both the Anarchs and the Kuei-Jin opposing us. Strauss, untrustworthy as he may be, is very well-liked in our organization. Executing him would be sure to reduce social cohesion."_

_"Your Court is a mess."_ Justicar LaChapelle spat. That was the most hurtful thing he's said this night, and he's always been the "tough love" type. _"Half of the clans lack Primogen. You have a Primogen for the Tremere and the Nosferatu, but where is your Malkavian Primogen? Still locked in his manor? What of your Toreador Primogen? Your Gangrel Primogen? Furthermore, you are constantly wrestling control from this Strauss character. None of your Primogen fear you enough, and I even hear that your Nosferatu Primogen sells secrets to the Anarchs! All because of the subversive efforts of a mage."_

LaCroix had to remind himself that he couldn't make it look like he was getting yelled at. The other Ventrue in the room were staring at himself and the Justicar expectantly, waiting for them to say something.

_"I have a plan."_ LaCroix said.

_"Speak of this plan."_ His Sire ordered.

_"I will employ the help of the Orientals."_ LaCroix said. _"I will convince Ming Xao to ally with the Camarilla so that we may destroy Anarch presence within California. Once they are dealt with, I will steadily increase Camarilla presence, setting up principates within neighboring cities until the Kuei-jin are trapped. Then we will snuff them out."_

_"And how do you plan on doing this?"_

_"The Kindred I'd executed has a childe. I will use him to gain an artifact of sorts...this will give us the power to destroy the Kuei-jin once the Anarchs are dealt with."_

The Justicar nodded once. _"And if the mage seeks to subvert these efforts?"_

_"I have information that is quite compromising to the Tremere Clan as a whole that will allow me to twist his arm."_ LaCroix explained. _"He will not stand against my efforts directly in fear of this news getting out. Any indirect efforts will be futile as long as I keep my intentions secret."_

Finally, LaCroix's Sire smiled.

_"I am glad my investment in you has not proven to be in vain."_ He said. _"You are young, Sebastian. But ambitious. Intelligent. These traits are why I have embraced you into a clan such as ours. You are a conqueror. A leader. Let none stop you from bringing our clan to its rightful greatness."_

LaCroix nodded. _"Understood, Justicar."_

_"Now,"_ Justicar Lachapelle said. _"I will be returning within a few months. When I return, I want every last Brujah savage and Tremere leech to be ash in the wind. I want victory when I have returned, LaCroix, not failure. Not delays. I am reducing the time you are afforded to motivate you. Do you understand?"_

LaCroix paled, but he nodded. _"Understood, Justicar."_

Justicar Marcel Lachapelle turned back to the Ventrue waiting to speak, putting on a perfect smile as if he wasn't just chewing LaCroix out. The Ventrue population within LA was very young, with none of them being lower than 9th Generation. LaCroix knew that not only was he in this to please his Sire and Justicar, but also to set an example of success among his clan brothers and sisters. If he is able to bring the Camarilla to prominence in none other than the Anarch capital of the United States, who knows? Maybe word will even reach the Inner Circle.

"My fellow Ventrue," The Justicar began, returning to English. "The situation may look dire for the Camarilla and, by extension, our clan, but your Prince will lead us to victory. The worst has passed us, brothers and sisters. Remain faithful in your Elder, and he will guide you."

All of the Ventrue nodded in agreement, and the Justicar then disappeared in thin air. LaCroix no longer felt the presence of his Sire, which meant he could relax. Or rather, he would be relaxing if not for the knock on his door.

"Come in." He told them.

In came Maximilian Strauss - speak of the devil - and his Magister, Kamala Al-Fasi. They both wore red coats with pendants hanging from their necks. LaCroix always found it disgusting that they would embrace their occult natures so openly, as if flaunting their hidden knowledge and power. As far as he was concerned, the Tremere were not vampires. They did not have ancestry going back to Caine. Their immortality was stolen, and treachery was in their blood. They're not to be trusted.

"My Prince, are we interrupting?" Strauss asked, his tone neutral as always, cold almost.

"Not at all, Primogen." LaCroix said. "In fact, we were just going to conclude our meeting. Ventrue, you may leave."

With that, the dozen or so Ventrue in the room walked out of the ivory doors of LaCroix's suite. The Prince sat down as Strauss approached. Kamala held something in her arms, something wrapped in a red and black leather coat. LaCroix recognized the coat, it was something that Justine wore often. He had heard it had enchantments on it to give it supernatural properties, the details of which he wasn't privy to.

"Thank you, Kamala." LaCroix said politely.

"If I may ask, my Prince…" Strauss began, "Why had you ordered Justine's things be bought to you? I assure you, we are fully capable of disposing of it ourselves."

"I plan on gifting them to her childe as a gesture of goodwill." LaCroix explained. "It is in our interest to show him the perks of joining our organization, no? Or he will fall prey to the pathos of the Anarch Movement. Or worse, the Sabbat."

Strauss' eyebrows furrowed. "My Prince, as your advisor, I recommend you do not do that. Justine Sanders was a Magister, and within that book is magic that is very advanced. Nothing that a fledgeling such as Algernon Blake should have access to."

LaCroix tilted his head. Interesting. He could tell there was something the Regent wasn't telling him, but he didn't know what. Either way, the fact that he didn't want Algernon to come into possession of Justine's belongings was reason enough for him to do it. The fledgeling was a rogue element in LaCroix's plans, but he was fairly confident that he can control him long enough to have him killed when he is no longer useful. The less easy it would be for the likes of Strauss to gain control of him, the better.

"I have considered your concern." The Prince said. "And I have still elected to give the fledgeling Justine's belongings for the reasons I've already stated. His access to powerful blood sorceries should not be an issue, as our spies in Santa Monica have said he displays an uncanny proficiency with it already, even without training."

Strauss paled. Ah-ha. He was trying to gain control of the fledgeling.

"Besides…" LaCroix continued, his voice dripping with more contempt than he intended. "I am sure your clan has mechanisms in place to train a fledgeling such as him?"

"Of course, my Prince." Strauss said, bowing his head.

"Wonderful." LaCroix said. "Now, Primogen, do you have any further business here this evening?"

Strauss shook his head. "No, my Prince. We will leave you to your matters."

LaCroix nodded. "Good evening, Primogen Strauss, Harpy Al-Fasi."

They both bowed at the same time, saying in unison, "Good evening, my Prince."

And then they left.

LaCroix eyed the belongings of Justine Sanders with distaste. Bloody Tremere and their black magicks. Untrustworthy, all of them. With curiosity, he opened the black coat that covered the objects within, and he saw a black leather satchel and a large book bound in leather with a strange symbol on it - Justine's grimoire. He ran his fingers along the spine of the book, gazing at it with something between awe and disgust. The powers of the Tremere have always been mysterious, and they're arguably the only reason they are part of the Camarilla. LaCroix had to admit, there was something seductive about such power…

Seeking to sate his curiosity, he tried to open it. The book reactive negatively, with red-black sparks shooting forth from the book and shooting up LaCroix's arm, causing enough pain to make him yelp. He quickly jerked his hand back, angry, and looked around. Nobody was in the room except his Sheriff, who stood motionless beside him. He wasn't even reacting. Sebastian calmed himself and smoothed over his blonde hair, covering the book.

"Bloody Tremere leeches." He muttered to himself

Just then, he got a phone call. He answered it, seeing that it was from his ghoul that worked in the docks by Santa Monica.

"LaCroix." The Prince answered.

"Yes, sir?" The man, Gonzales, answered on the other side. "We have confirmed that the Elizabeth Dane will be arriving within a few nights, sir."

LaCroix smiled. Finally some good news. "That is excellent to hear, Mr. Gonzalez. When it arrives, I want you to delay its unloading once it arrives long enough for me to have an agent extract the cargo."

"Of course, sir. Will that be all?"

"Yes."

The Prince hung up. He looked out of his large window out to Los Angeles, the City of Angels, and soon the new seat of power for the Ventrue. After LA, then Hollywood, then San Diego, Sacramento, and San Francisco - though dealing with the mage problem over there may prove difficult. Nevertheless, LaCroix was willing to do whatever it took to rise to prominence, even if he had to break the fundamental laws of his organization. After all, the Ventrue predated the Camarilla, they made the Camarilla, and it will not play a secondary role to the clan.

With Sebastian's plan, Los Angeles will be his.

_All_ his.


	17. Southland 4-1

**A/N: **Here's the beginning of "part 2" of the fanfiction! I hope you guys enjoy. This chapter, Algernon meets a personal favorite character of mine, Beckett. 

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**_Two nights later..._**

"I think this is Lil and I's last night in town, mate." E told me as we looked out to the sea. The sea was oddly calm right tonight, with the waves gently crashing against the wooden foundations of the nearby pier. Behind us, the thin-bloods were gathered around the campfire, their partially-undead bodies still needing warmth. Lily was playing guitar for them, some kind of song she wrote before she was turned.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to him. "What are the thin-bloods going to do without their Prince?"

E chuckled at that, shrugging idly and looking out to the sea. He was silent for a little bit, just watching the sprinkle of stars against the black sky. The air was chilly, blowing past us but only E could feel it. My body was fully dead, so I didn't really feel it. I only felt an echo of sensation, a memory of being cold.

"I'm no prince, Al." E said, finally. "I was just...lookin' out for them, you know? Nobody else would."

"You're harbingers of the apocalypse, remember?" I teased. "You and Lily..where are you guys headin'?"

"Far as three grand will take us, mate." E grunted. "Lily wants to go to Canada."

I whistled at that. "Never heard of Canadian vampires. Just might work."

That made E grin. "Shut the fuck up. But hey...listen, these poor saps will need someone to look after them. Not too much. They're a lot tougher than they look. Hell, they saved my ass more times than I could count. But...you know what I mean."

"Well…" I said. "I don't know if I can. I'm leaving town soon. Just waiting for a guy to contact me and then I'm heading right back to LA."

"Not that far away, innit?"

I shook my head. I knew what he meant. "Not that far away, no."

He patted me on the shoulder. "Hey, mate, I want to tha-"

"You've thanked me a thousand times already." I said, chuckling. "As I said, it's no problem. I was in a dark place. I...needed someone to help."

"No, you gotta understand what it means." E said. "It's just...I felt alone for so long, you know? And I hated Lily for what she made me, but...I couldn't for long. I thought that if I hated her, this fucking nightmare would end. But now that she's back with me, it actually makes things easier."

That made me think about Justine. Why did I think about her so much, especially when I was alone? I felt for E a lot. I knew how he felt, to hate what he'd become, but to feel alone and afraid. It's how I felt when I was first turned. Hell, it's still how I felt. But for E, it was worse. He became a thin-blood, hunted by almost every Kindred he sees. I was just everyone's errand boy. At least I was able to reunite her with Lily. I'd never get reunited with Justine.

"Yeah." I said, my voice almost a whisper. "You seem a little happier."

"Mate...when you said when you came across me, you were in a dark place. You still in that dark place?" He asked.

I turned away from him, sliding my hands into my pockets. The wind blew against my skin again, and yet again I remembered what it was like to be cold. Eternity. That was a long time to be like this. And there was no way out, none at all. At times like this, my Beast awoke from its false slumber, telling me to take my grief and misery out on my enemies, on the thin-bloods. Tear them apart, drink their blood, destroy their hearts. It told me that it would make me feel better, but I knew that was a lie. This whole vampire thing would be better without an antisocial imaginary friend.

"Yeah…" I said. "I think so."

I felt E's hand on my back, patting gently. "Lil and I are leaving in a bit. Just wanted to tell you to look after my mates...they're good people, if not a little jumpy."

I nodded. "I'll do what I can. Take care of yourself, E."

"I will."

E left.

There went the only one that didn't use me as a pawn was also the one that will bring the apocalypse, if his attackers were to be believed. Go figure. A part of me worried about him and Lily. There were some powerful vampires out there, people like Tourette and LaCroix. But part of me knew that as long as they were together, Sire and childe, they'd do just fine. That sense of loneliness returned to me, and I thought of Justine. I thought of my parents, who had called me repeatedly in the past three nights, only for me to ignore my calls. I thought about my sister, and my friends from college. Did they think I was missing? They must've thought I was involved in something horrible.

Funny. Vampires cry blood.

I wiped my tears quickly when I noticed Copper, one of the thin-bloods approaching. Lily had left with E a few moments ago, and I noticed a familiar figure by the bonfire. Knox.

"Hey, someone's here to see you." Copper said. "Doesn't seem to be a vampire."

"No." I said, groaning. "He's worse than a vampire: annoying."

Copper and I walked from the boardwalk to the bonfire. Knox greeted me with his signature wide smile, like he was a kid at an amusement park. Tonight he wore jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt underneath a bomber jacket. The katana he'd gotten from the Asian vampire was sheathed into a scabbard on his back. He looked absolutely ridiculous, but I was beginning to expect it was all an act.

"Hey, man!" Knox said, greeting me. "Tung is ready to see you."

"Finally." I said. "What kept him so long?"

"No idea, dude! I'm just the messenger." Knox said defensively. "Follow me, I'll take you to him!"

I said my goodbyes to the thin-bloods for the night. Tonight, I've got some domestic terrorism to commit.

Tung was hiding in the old gas station near the end of town. Knox drove into the abandoned lot and parked, looking over to me with a sad expression, saying, "Aw man, it was nice knowing you…"

That alarmed me. "What? Why? What do you mean?"

He burst out laughing. "Aw man! You shoulda seen your face! You were like, 'Why? What do you mean?' Aw man, I totally scared you!"

I scowled at him. "Kid less."

Knox sobered. "Alright, see that huge, rusty, hollowed-out oil tank behind you? Bertram is in there."

"Right." I said. "See you around, Knox."

"Yeah, man." Knox replied.

I got out of the car and walked through the cut-out entrance to the oil tank. The inside was surprisingly well-lit, with a few lamps set up all around to light the place. Bertram must've set up the electricity in there himself, because it all looked very homemade from the way the wires were duct taped to the walls. There was a desk next to a mattress with a fancy-looking computer, one of those new slimmer ones that cost a fortune. A man who I presumed was Tung stood by the mattress.

Therese told me that the Nosferatu were hideous but that was an understatement. Bertram looked like he was a burn victim that had gotten his skull bashed in several times. He was completely hairless and had massive warts bulging out of the back of his skull. He seemed to be missing an ear - no, one ear was fused to his skull as a fleshy mound, and the other stuck out and pointed, with a golden piercing near the tip. He had a nose piercing on his pointy nose and beady red eyes, like a mouse, with a maw of jagged, sharp teeth. Did all Nosferatu look like this? And I thought I had it bad.

"Look who made it." Tung greeted me, a natural drawl to his voice. "You must be Algernon. Thought you'd never find me, huh?"

"Honestly, I was beginning to think so." I said. "How'd you know I was looking for you?"

"I've gotten good at knowing when I'm wanted." Tung said.

I nodded. That was a good enough answer for me. "How do you know about me?"

"News travels down the Kindred grapevine like wildfire." The Nosferatu explained. "And that courtroom spat between LaCroix and Nine Rodriguez is a juicy little morsel. Not only that, but the star pupil of Maximilian Strauss himself, Justine Sanders, the poster child for the young Tremere herself violating the first tradition? You at the middle of this all? How interesting."

Justine Sanders, a star pupil? Both Jack and Tung knew her name? Just how prolific was she?

"That's great." I said. "So you know I survived."

Tung chuckled. It was an ugly sound, like a cough and a pur. "Oh you did, did you? Well, I wasn't worried. So, why'd you find me? What did you need?"

"I need to get to the warehouse for Mercurio." I told him.

Tung tilted his head. "Hm? Oh! Never mind. The warehouse, though… I've been watching that place. The Sabbat has a bunch of lowlife humans working day and night to move stuff through there. There's some major staging going on."

"So I should only expect to encounter humans there?" I asked.

"Far as I can tell." Tung confirmed. "The humans seem to know the score from the way they've been talking. I think most of them have aspirations of joining the next graduating class of shovelheads. Ugh, losers."

I frowned. "Wait. They know they're working for vampires?"

"Yeah. The Sabbat like everyone to know just who they're dealing with." Tung explained. "So if you get in there and have to bust a few heads...don't feel bad. Think of it as 'upholding the Masquerade' - that's, um, our word for the rules that keep us secret."

The Masquerade. Finally, I had something to call it other than "the rules". I didn't feel particularly nervous about killing, not anymore. I already had blood on my hands at this point. If cracking a few skulls this time was going to help keep vampires secret, then I was all for it. I had a bit of frustration to vent out anyway.

"Can you get me in without me being detected?" I asked.

"Yes I can." Tung said matter-of-factly. "Once we're at the warehouse, however, you're on your own. You'll have to get in the place and plant the explosives in the middle office to bring the whole structure down."

I also had to sneak, I realized. If I got into a gunfight, this astrolite in my backpack would blow me up. Sure, I could take a hit and a few gunshot wounds like nobody's business, but I was pretty confident that I wouldn't last a nanosecond in a chemical explosion. Not with all of the fire.

"Alright. Let's go." I said.

Arming explosives is time consuming. Arming explosives is even more time consuming when you've never done it before, and are reading from an instruction manual in Russian how to do it. It's even harder when the only Russian you know is from a girl you dated back in college who taught you a few words. And even still, it's harder to arm explosives when twelve guys at you are shooting at you with full autos. The only people protecting me were the ten thugs I'd enthralled, shooting back at them, but they were mindless. They didn't have the skills necessary to take down most of the thugs on the grounds of the warehouse, which made them go down quickly.

Soon, someone came out with a full-auto and splattered my thralls' blood all over the windows, leaving me all but defenseless. I heard footsteps coming up the metal stairs in droves, so I did what I could to slow them down. Commanding the splattered blood in the room, I created a wall of hardened blood over the door, which they began banging on as soon as they got to it. It would keep them out, but not for long. Not once they figure out that the wall is brittle enough to be blown to pieces by a shotgun.

"Come on...is this the word for 'blue wire'?! Ugh, I should've taken Russian in college." I growled to myself. I relied on my best judgement and connected the blue wire to one of the jacks, and the little light on the bomb turned on. That meant it was on, from what I'd read, so that was good. Now all I had to do is set the timer.

Then I heard a shotgun cocking. I was out of time. There was a loud bang as the blood wall I'd created shattered, allowing the dozen or so Sabbat thugs through. I took cover behind the table, narrowly dodging a shotgun blast directly to the head. Instead, it shattered the window behind me, which gave the thugs outside a clear enough way to start shooting into the room. I was cornered. Working as quickly as I could, I set the explosives to blow in five minutes. Then I kicked down the table, using it as cover to keep them from turning me into Swiss cheese with their AKs.

"Alright, you fuckers want to play?" I growled, standing up once they all began to reload. I summoned my blood forth through my pores, and it began to cover every inch of my body, forming into a shield. They began shooting again, but the bullets just harmlessly bounced off as if I was a living tank.

"Oh fuck!" One of them exclaimed.

I lunged straight at one of the thugs, burying my teeth into his throat and ripping out his jugular. Blood began to spew from the open wound, which I used to form a javelin-like object. I threw it at one of the other thugs as their bullets bounced harmlessly through me, and it went straight through his head. Finally, I unsheathed my knife and lunged again, stabbing the third thug in the room in the heart repeatedly, then kicking his body down the stairs and making all of the other thugs lined up fall as well. Vaulting over the railing, I began to sprint over the exit, weaving and dodging through all of the thugs that got in my way. I crashed out of the window and landed fifty feet down in a roll, getting behind cover just in time for my blood shield to wear off.

Taking out my pistol, I took a few potshots at one of the thirteen thugs out shooting at me. One began to rush at me with a fire axe, so I quickly caught him in the eyes, shouting, "Fight for me!"

The thug stopped in his tracks and he turned the other way, attacking his comrades. They were surprised when he axed one of them right in the face, downing him instantly. A few began to shoot at him, which gave me the chance to take cover behind one of the freight cars. I used my powers to see the auras of thugs moving in on me, and heard heartbeats approaching me from behind. I got under the freight car and began shooting at the thugs' ankles, making them fall down, then shooting them in their foreheads once they fell. Those firearms training classes were really coming in handy. I wasn't the best marksman, but I could at least aim for the head now.

I felt one of the thugs grab my ankles and pull me from under the train. He got on top of me and tried to wrestle the gun out of my hand, but I was stronger. Kicking him off, I sent him flying into the wall, killing him instantly and no doubt shattering a few of his bones. I got up before any of the other thugs could take advantage of my prone position, and projected my blood shield again. One of them was armed with an axe, swinging it in a wide axe which seemed to go through my armor and get me in the stomach. I quickly grabbed his wrist and shoved my gun into his mouth, shooting him and using him as cover to block the other gunfire.

The bomb was going to explode and I still needed to be much further away from the warehouse than I was. Using my will, I thickened my blood shield quite a bit, expending more of my blood to do so and began running. I ran up the side of one of the freight cars easily and vaulted over, landing on the ground in a roll and sprinting across the train field. Guns and bullets flew, but I managed to aim-dodge them for the most part, through some of them managed to get me in the chest and shoulders. I made eye contact with a few of the thugs and compelled them to slow the others down, which they did to the best of their ability, though not too effectively. Eventually, I made it across the train yard heavily wounded, but alive.

Barging through one of the metal doors, I sprinted through the hallway, ducking low to avoid the bullets that were coming after me. Once I went through the hallway, I made a sharp turn and climbed out through one of the holes in the wall. There were three thugs waiting for me there, but I managed to get rid of them quickly because they didn't have guns. One of them took a little bit longer because they were a vampire, but he went quickly once I used his buddy's fire axe to slice off his leg and behead him. His body turned to ash at my feet and I kept running, now limping because of one of the wounds I'd received. As soon as I got to one of the thugs, I tackled him and fed on him while using him as cover to avoid the other gunshots.

Two more minutes. I had to leave as quickly as possible. It was times like this that flight or Jack's teleportation ability - or whatever it was - was among my list of skills. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. I hopped into one of the freight cars and waited until the thugs walked around to find me, then I took off running. I reached an old train station that was about two miles away from the warehouse, hoping it was safe enough. It was just in time, too, because as soon as I reached it, there was a resounding boom that I'm pretty sure they'd be able to hear in Canada.

"Whelp…" I said as I watched the massive cloud of smoke drift up into the night sky. "That's making the news. Good job, Al, you're a terrorist now."

I heard a howling sound, one that was dangerously close. My luck being what it was, I assumed that a werewolf was now coming to bite my head off. Instead, I saw a wolf - a not-half-human one - run across the top of one of the trains. Once the wolf got close enough, it leapt off and landed in front of me. Then I saw the wolf morph into a humanoid form, a long-haired man wearing cargo pants, knee-high combat boots, a linen shirt and a long overcoat. He had on dark shades, but they just barely obscured his glowing red eyes.

Was this a werewolf? No, his skin was pale as bone. He had to be a vampire. I recall reading in Dracula that the man himself could turn into animals. Maybe that's what this was?

"The warehouse…" The wolf-man said, glancing at the column of smoke that rose to the sky, then back to me. "Your handiwork, I presume?"

"W-What are you?" I asked, a little shaken. "Are you a werewolf?"

The wolf-man chuckled. "Not experienced much in the creatures of the night, are you? For future reference, you might keep in mind that werewolves aren't in the habit of introducing themselves."

I liked this guy. "So...you aren't going to kill me?" I asked.

"I hadn't planned on it." The man told me, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Who are you?" I asked. "Why are you here? Have you been following me?"

"I see my reputation, for once, does not precede me." The man said. "My name is Beckett. I haven't been following you per se; we've just coincidentally been at the same place at the same time...for different reasons. So sorry if I unnerved you."

I lowered my guard. It was a bit jarring to go from running from an army of Sabbat thugs to having a conversation with Beckett, the not-werewolf.

"It's fine. You didn't." I said.

"Tell me…" Beckett began. "Have you seen or felt anything strange since you were first Embraced?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Embrace means 'turned'." Beckett elaborated.

"A lot of weird things." I answered.

"Such as?" He asked.

"How much time do you have?" I deadpanned.

Beckett was unaffected by my snark. "Hm. Most of my contacts here report sensing something unusual in the night air. Like a sense of dread or pressure… but I'm not native to these parts, so I can't tell if it's irregular."

"No, trust me, that's just LA." I said.

He smirked. Then he mused, "Since you're still fresh, perhaps you're not attuned to it."

I shrugged. "You're probably right. No, everything I've experienced is apparently perfectly normal for vampires."

"Hm." Beckett said, his brows furrowing. "Well, it's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but there are rumblings for me to discredit. We shall, I'm certain, meet again. Or never again. Goodnight, young one… and be careful, you're very likely being hunted by the Sabbat."

That gave me a chill. The Sabbat hadn't been a problem so far, but I had a feeling that the mindless thugs I'd been fighting were only the tip of the iceberg.

"Right…" I said. "Night, Beckett."


	18. Southland 4-2

**A/N: **Sorry for the dialogue-heavy chapter! Just getting everything set up for later chapters. Hope you enjoy! 

* * *

"Nice work, Algernon. I felt that explosion a mile away." Tung said, meeting me halfway through the sewer passage he guided me through. "It's all over the news, too. Man, there's going to be some pissed off Sabbat howlin' for blood tonight."

"Thanks." I said. I didn't really care much about screwing over the Sabbat - or rather, I did, but I cared about whether or not my "trial" was over. Hopefully, I wouldn't be anyone's errand boy now, especially since what I'd done could end up putting me on a government watch list. "Hey...do you know someone named Beckett?"

Tung shrugged as we walked through the sewers. "I know of him. Why?"

"I spoke with him." I answered.

Tung raised an eyebrow or...I think he dd. His deformed face made his expressions almost impossible to read.

"No kidding." He said. "Must be something major happening if he's in town. He's a historian of sorts. He's unearthed more vampire lore than anyone. That's all Beckett does; seek the truth behind our...condition."

I nodded. "I had a question."

Tung stopped. "Mhm?"

"The way you talked about my Sire, Justine…" I said. "What do you know about her?"

Bertram pushed air through his mouth, his leathery, warty cheeks puffing up briefly.

"Well," he began. "Your Sire was high-ranking in the Tremere - your clan. She was the Regent's right hand, or at least one of them. The Tremere are so damn tight-lipped about everything, I can't even catch much gossip, but from what I've gathered she was essentially a Camarilla poster child. She'd done a lot of running around for the Prince and for her Primogen, worked with the Anarchs, though I can't say if she particularly liked them, or if they liked her. Overall? She was a mixed bag. Opinions on her depended on who you talk to."

I frowned. "She was a poster child? Why'd she break the rules and Embrace me then?"

"Hell if I know, kiddo." Tung drawled. "It's gotten a lot of people talking, though, I'll tell you that."

What could drive such a stickler for the rules to break the rules anyway? What was going on with Justine when she Embraced me? I wished I had the answer to that. In a way, that felt like the real mystery here. And I had a feeling this M. Strauss, the Tremere Regent, would be able to tell me.

"Well, this is where we part ways." Tung said as soon as we approached one of the manholes. "Now that you blew up the warehouse, LaCroix should be letting you into LA. Just grab a cab or something."

I nodded and began to climb up the metal ladder. "It was nice working with you, Tung. Goodnight." 

* * *

LA was one of those cities that you just liked, even if you hated it. As the cab left Santa Monica and headed towards Downtown LA, low buildings, sandy beaches, and dense forces became high towers of concrete. There were nightclubs on every corner, more people walking the streets, and that overall false glamour that many cities had. Los Angeles wasn't called the city of angels for nothing. There were more attractive people walking the streets than unattractive people, hopeful stars and starlets hoping to make it big. In a way, they were trying to get their own slice of eternity, attempting to immortalize themselves on the big screen.

I lived in LA before I was turned. I had moved to Santa Monica temporarily to get away from the inner city riff raff. If I knew then what I know now, I never would've set foot in that beach town, but I couldn't take it back now. It wasn't as if I could walk through time - unless that was one of those secret vampire powers I had that I was going to unlock later on. The cab dropped me off on an empty street away from pedestrians at my request, so I slipped him a fifty, told him to keep the change, and got out. I watched him drive off into the night, then I began walking down the street towards downtown.

Of course, someone decided to start shit with me immediately. As soon as I got close to an alleyway, a thug that looked like he might be a Sabbat vampire jumped out, hitting me in the head hard enough to make me black out. When I started to come to, I began to hear their horrible, inhuman voices.

"Let's drain it." One of them hissed.

"Let's stake it and leave it out for the sunrise." Another one hissed.

"We're going to have a lot of fun with this one." Another growled.

I opened my eyes and saw three Sabbat vampires standing over me. They were all practically indistinguishable from each other, wearing what basically amounted to rags - probably homeless men that were turned into shovelheads. Their beady black eyes held nothing but pure hatred and rage in them. It was a look I recognized, a look I saw in Lily's eyes when I rescued her.

"Think you can blow up our warehouse and get away with it?" One of the vampires barked. "Huh, lick?"

The vampire next to him must've thought that was hilarious for some reason, because the dumb brute burst out laughing. After a snort, he said, "Let's pull out its eyes and its tongue and its teeth."

"I want its teeth." One of them said. "Camarilla fuck!"

The thug to the right of me stomped hard on my chest, making me howl out in pain. Despite being beanpole thin, he stomped down on me like a fucking sledgehammer.

"Boys," He said. "I think we can all use a little entertainment."

He was going to lunge at me, but then I heard the sound of a gunshot, then a splatter of blood as a gaping hole formed in the back of the vampire's head. The Sabbat vampire fell to his knees, hissing.

"Son of a bitch!" He yelled.

I looked to the direction of where the gunshot came from and saw a man pointing a revolver at the Sabbat. His features were Hispanic, and he had ash gray skin, cropped-short hair, and a beard. He wore a blue button-up shirt over a white tank top, which was tucked into his jeans. He looked absolutely intense as he aimed the gun at the Sabbat, holding a controlled fury about him that was terrifying.

"Leave." He ordered them.

"There's three of us, Rodriguez." One of the Sabbat vampires reminded him.

"Yeah." The other one rasped.

The dumb brute that stomped me began to burst out laughing again. I was having a difficult time understanding this guy's sense of humor. After he managed to stop laughing, he said, "Three of us."

"Waddya gonna do? Shoot us?"

Rodrigues said nothing and patted his side. I looked and saw… Jesus, was that a grenade?!

One of the Sabbat vampires - the dominant one, I'd gathered - growled.

"This ain't over." He hissed, turning back to look at me. "We'll find you." - He turned to look at Rodriguez - "You too, Rodriguez. You're both dead! Nobody messes with the Sabbat and lives!"

"Keep moving." Rodriguez ordered calmly.

They sneered at him and turned around, walking away from the scene. Rodriguez waited for a moment and walked towards me, letting out a gentle sigh.

"Trouble sure seems to like you." He mused.

I got up. "Yeah, well-"

A quick patter of feet hitting concrete, and the dominant Sabbat vampire lunged at Rodriguez. It would've worked, too, but Rodriguez immediately had the barrel of his revolver pressed against the vampire's sternum. Coldly, he regarded the vampire and said, "Good effort, but..." Before pulling the trigger, turning the vampire into ash.

Holy fuck. My eyes widened. This Rodriguez guy was so fast that I didn't even see him change positions to raise his gun! How was that possible? I knew for a fact that I was abnormally fast, but this guy was on a completely different level.

"...Execution needs a little work." He continued.

"Holy fuck." I muttered. "I didn't even see you move…"

"Yeah?" Rodriguez asked, quizzical. "Neither did he. You look like shit."

"It's been a rough night." I told him. "Algernon."

"Name's Nines." He replied.

"Thanks for the help."

"Yeah, well you should've been more careful, newbie. This ain't the burbs."

I suddenly felt embarrassed. Now that I was closer to him, he looked familiar...then I remembered. I saw him nights ago, among the sea of faces that were judging me and my Sire. He's the one that spoke up for me at the theater!

"You're the guy at the court." I remarked.

"Kid, I've got a lot of things to deal with." He told me. "Why don't you pay me a visit at the Last Round tonight. I don't know what you've heard so far, but it's time you heard the real story."

That sounded promising. Finally, someone willing to be more up-front with me. Maybe he could tell me about Justine.

"I'll do that." I promised.

"This is a mean existence." He said. "Stay out of trouble kid."

With that, he left me alone on the street. 

* * *

Finding LaCroix would be difficult if there wasn't a massive building called "LaCroix" in LA. It was funny, back when I was living, I assumed it was some kind of hotel. Now I know it's a hotel that is, in fact, owned by a vampire. When I got to the entrance, I caught sight of a few suspiciously pale people walking in and out of the tower, all of which were dressed in ways ranging from fashionable to downright bizarre. Hell, there was even a guy dressed in a pimp coat and a giant, striped tophat like the Cat-in-the-Hat. I walked through the doors to the fancy lobby and saw the very same security guard from Gallery Noir sitting at the desk.

What, was God running out of extras to my life or something?

"You...look familiar." The security guard said. "We haven't met before, have we?"

"Yeah, we had." I reminded him.

"Oh yeah! Back in Santa Monica, right?" He asked. "I don't know what came over me back there but… now I got this sweet night shift position, and... I'm happier than the time I met Sipowicz."

"Well, that's good." I said. "I've had a rougher night, as you can see."

"Oh boy...yeah, I can see that. Eh...nothin' a few band-aids can't fix, eh?" He asked, chuckling. "You here to see one of the big wigs, chief?"

"Yeah, I'm here to see LaCroix."

The guard smirked. "Would that be Sebastian LaCroix of the LaCroix Foundation, or Dwayne LaCroix of Insurrection Baby Formula Company?"

"The second one." I deadpanned. "No, I want to see Sebastian LaCroix."

The guard squinted at a note in his desk. "Hm...okay then. Mr LaCroix told me to expect someone fitting your description sometime tonight. You go right on up."

"Glad it's not some other devilishly handsome guy with holes in his clothes." I said. "I'll see you."

"Yeah, uh, you have a good power meetin' or uh, whatever it is you types do up there." He told me. "You need any security, you just ring the front desk and ask for Officer Chunk. That's me, in case you're wondering."

I had to restrain myself from laughing. That was a very unfortunate name, considering his...physique.

"Right...I'll be seeing you, Chunk."

I took the elevator up to the penthouse suite. LaCroix's office looked less like an office and more like a lounging room in one of those old hellfire clubs, where rich old nobles would sit around talking about the philosopher's stone or something. There were paintings of people I didn't recognize along the walls, followed by a massive hearth that I swear you could throw a body into - which, considering the vampire weakness to fire, I couldn't help but think was by design. There were several others in the room with me, all in couches and lounging almost idly, speaking with each other about various things and societies I knew nothing about. All of them eyed me with absolute distaste, and suddenly I didn't feel like I was supposed to be there.

At the end of the room sat LaCroix himself at his desk. Next to him was his bodyguard, still as a statue, but intimidating and looming over the entire room. He stared straight ahead, past me. It made me wonder if he was a construct like that blood guardian I'd fought, or if he was an actual person. I'd have to find out sometime.

Once I approached his desk, LaCroix rose from his seat. His expression was unreadable, something between disappointment and neutrality. I couldn't tell if he was pleased I was here or not. On the desk was something wrapped in a leather coat, and I could feel that more than I felt anything in the room.

"There you are." The Prince said. "I was informed of your presence in the building. Since you are here, I'll take the liberty of assuming you destroyed the warehouse… this is correct, yes?"

"Yes, that is. But I-"

"Most excellent." He said, cutting me off. Already, I wanted to strangle this guy. "I had no doubt you'd prove my decision a prudent one. I trust you encountered no...impediments to your progress on account of my personnel?"

"I encountered impediments, alright." I said, shrugging. "But...not on account of any of your guys, no."

"That is the answer I'd like to hear." LaCroix said, finally smiling. It was very obviously fake, but polite enough to not be offensive. "You've done well, circumstances being what they were. I will admit, not many in your… position would have overcome such a trial."

Translation: he didn't expect me to survive. That, if nothing else, gave me a sense of vindictive satisfaction. If the Prince didn't expect me to survive, those other people that watched me on trial, judged me probably didn't either.

"Please don't misunderstand me." LaCroix continued. "It was no fool's errand. You may yet prove to be a genuine asset. It's a bit disturbing, the lack of talent within this organization as of late… In light of this, I have decided to reward your success by granting you the effects of your Sire."

He pushed over the jacket and the things within. I picked it up and saw that the coat was a black and red leather duster that was exactly my size, strangely enough. The duster was wrapped around a black leather satchel and a strange-looking book that was about as thick as the Bible. These were Justine's personal things? It was a little weird but...for some reason, I didn't want to deny myself of these things. I felt as if I should have them. Was it because Justine was my Sire?

"Thank you, Prince LaCroix." I said. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes." He said. "It has come to my attention that you had an encounter with Nines Rodriguez. The man so does love to throw that cretinous charm of his brashly about. What exactly did Mr. Rodriguez say?"

"He asked me to come visit him at the Last Round."

The Prince's eyebrows furrowed. This obviously displeased him.

"I see." He said. "Then, you should go humor the by-the-numbers rhetoric he's so desperately aching to spew. Oh please, before the chants of 'fascist oppressor' from that dive of theirs clog the air and choke the local kine."

The contempt with which he talked about them reminded me of how Therese...er...Tourette talked about the Nosferatu. It seemed that vampires had a lot of hate for different groups, which made me wonder where I stood. Personally, I was willing to hear Nines out because he saved me twice now.

"I'll do that right away." I told him.

"Give the Anarch community my regards." Said the Prince.

I nodded. So that's what Rodriguez's group was called? The Anarchs?

"Very well." I said, then left the suite. 

* * *

I'd actually been to the Last Round a few times before when I was human. Back then, you wouldn't have been able to convince me that it's a vampire bar. Granted, I didn't believe in vampires at all, but you get the point. Instead of having that sinister air like The Asylum, another vampire establishment I'd been in, the Last Round seemed like any old bar. When I walked in, I caught several of the vampires glancing at me with expressions ranging from disgust to downright curiosity. All of the Kindred there looked pretty young - but then again, so did Tourette.

Ignoring the glances, I walked to the stairs, only to be blocked by a tall black guy. His skin was a very dark shade of ash gray, and he wore a simple beige tee shirt and jeans. The most striking thing about him were his eyes - his pupils were slit, like a cat's, and the irises were golden. Just what kind of vampire was he, I wondered?

"Well, if it isn't the talk of the town; the poster child for Camarilla benevolence." He began, his voice absolutely full of contempt and aggression. "What errands does the prince have you runnin' today, boy?"

For a moment, I was speechless. I didn't expect to be treated this way as soon as I walked through the door, as if I pissed in everyone's drink. What the fuck was his problem? What did I do to deserve this treatment?

"Funny." I said flatly. "Is Nines around?"

"Nines is expecting you. Have some manners and don't wear out your welcome." He told me. "I'm Skelter. Act up and I'll be the one showing your ashes to the door."

Well, at least the threat wasn't veiled. These Anarchs sure were aggressive, but why? More importantly, why were they aggressive to me, and why did they say the name of the Camarilla with such contempt? I remembered that I was here specifically to get the answer to those questions.

"I'm Algernon." I said, trying to remain amiable and resist the urging from the Beast to separate this guy's blood from his body. "Nines is upstairs?"

He nodded firmly, and I went up.

Upstairs was pretty empty, save for Nines himself who was sitting at a table, cleaning a gun. Without looking up at me, he waved me over. I walked up to him and sat down on the stool in front of him.

"You showed up. Good." He said, finally looking up at me. "Here's what I got to tell you - and so you know, I don't lecture, I don't rap, I'm no bureaucrat; I'm just a guy out of nowhere who came to be involved in something five hundred times bigger than you and me."

"Okay." I said. "Go on."

"You have a right to know the score. The Camarilla - this is the short of it. They operate a lot like a pyramid scheme. There's a bunch of old timers at the top, with God only knows what plots in mind. They lose their power, they die. They Sired more to carry out their plans, and lookin' for a little power, then those Kindred Sired for their own schemes and so on and so on - it hurts my head just thinkin' about the mess. What it works out to be is this: only a few people at the top have any real power."

I frowned. It seemed this was bigger than I thought.

"Isn't the Prince the leader of the Camarilla?" I asked.

"LaCroix? Shit…" Nines scoffed. "LaCroix is just the guy who backstabbed and wheeled-and-dealed his way into becoming king son of a bitch of all the local Camarilla. Him and any o' the traitors that sided with the Cam want power here, they'll get what's due."

That sounded very final. It looked like the Prince wasn't on as steady ground as it seemed.

"I bet they will." I agreed. "Um...so what are you all about?"

"I learned the way of this world during the Great Depression. Bunch of old, rich bastards screwed the country, but did they suffer? No - the little people suffered. You can't trust the people at the top. The world's a better place without 'em." He explained.

Personally, I both agreed and disagreed with him. Ever since I'd become a vampire, I was just getting bossed around people, hearing about thin-bloods being hunted for sport. Those orders must've been coming from up top. At the same time, vampires were a very vicious sort - hell, even I had my moments. Without some sort of structure to vampire society, we'd just end up like the Sabbat, right?

"Well...what would you prefer?" I asked. "If you're going to get rid of the people at the top, some kind of system has to replace it."

"All you can do is get a group of people together who aren't assholes." He explained. "Find a place to put your feet up, and make some examples of the quote-unquote elite to keep the rest the hell out. Everyone's an equal here, the same thing this country used to be about. That's what LA has been, an Anarch Free State."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Anarch Free State?"

Nines crossed his arms. "We kicked the Camarilla out on their ass a long time ago. We, the Anarchs, didn't want to play their politics anymore. Now they're coming back like they never left - uh-uh, no goddamn way! Their laws don't apply to us."

"Have you tried meeting with the Camarilla?" I offered.

"I got their meeting right here." Nines growled, pulling out a very fancy-looking pistol from his side, loading a magazine into it as if he were ready to go on a rampage. My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. I felt they might pop out of my skull. Wasn't expecting that reaction.

"Woah - hey, hey!" I said, raising my hands. "Not a fan of the Prince?"

"LaCroix represents everything that I hate." Nines said. "Stuck-up aristocrats, rich businessmen, crooked politicians… The only place LaCroix belongs is in an urn."

"Any advice you can give me?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what I tell all of the newbies: One, you get careless, that blood'll turn you into a monster - but you rampage 'round here you get put down. Two, don't kill when you feed - but Jack told me he went over that one with you."

I nodded. So Jack was one of these Anarchs? It explained his distaste for the Prince. I wondered where he was now.

"Three:" Nines continued. "Camarilla's full o' shit. Four, watch your back. Always. And lastly, learn how to fight, cuz a speech ain't gonna save your ass when you're staring down the barrel of a shotgun."

"As someone who has been in that situation five times by now, I agree." I said, nodding. "Can you give me any pointers?"

"Yeah, after picking your ass up off the street, I can tell you need some basic training." He said. "Come over some other time. I'll give you pointers."

"Thanks for the help, Nines."

He waved his hand almost dismissively. "LA's the school of hard knocks, so keep your friends close and your enemies in a barbecue pit. Once you square things with LaCroix, don't give that son of a bitch the time o' night. I got my eye on you, kid."

I walked out of the Last Round a bit more enlightened on the state of things. From what I could tell, the Camarilla and the Anarchs were at odds with each other, and I hadn't met a single vampire yet that liked the Prince. I wasn't sure that I did either, and he didn't seem to like me. I didn't know what side I wanted to be on, frankly, but something told me that I was going to be forced to choose very soon. Now I had one final thing to do.

Taking out the note I'd received back on my first night, I read over it again:

_Dark blood, our curse, a light this verse_

_Such power I sense in one so young_

_Come find me where burns the mystical sun._

I grumbled to myself. Now I had to figure out what this shit means.


	19. Southland 4-3

**A/N: **So this is where the story begins to deviate from the original plot a bit more. It'll still be the story you know, more or less, but you've probably noticed a few things are a little different here. You'll see! 

* * *

I was beginning to wonder just how serious vampires were about this Masquerade of theirs, because Strauss' house just screamed vampire. It was near the end of downtown where the LA suburbs met the city, a huge gothic-looking place that looked straight out of a Doctor Strange comic. The building itself was about three floors high, with an attic level that was apparently massive, and a giant, circular stained-glass window that had a purple sun imprinted on it. Strangely enough, I'd been to these parts of LA and I hadn't noticed this building. You'd think I would, given how jarringly different it was from the other buildings of the block, but I didn't.

Something about it was intimidating, too. As I approached, I felt a similar feeling to the one I felt when I got near Justine's things, or when I first learned to manipulate blood. It was a quiet power, but it wasn't subtle, it was very obviously there and I couldn't ignore it. This power drew in my attention, encompassing everything within my senses until I felt and heard its low hum. Even my Beast was notified, and it bubbled and murmured strangely within the depths of my mind, for once quieted, but only a little. As I walked onto the porch, I couldn't help but wonder just what this place was. But I had a feeling that this place would give me more insight on Justine and what I'd become. At this point, that was the only thing driving me.

The door was unlocked, but as I walked through the threshold, I felt a silent thrum of power. It was as if I'd jumped into a pool of ice water; suddenly I felt alert, energized, awake. Before me was a staircase that led upwards and a hallway. I briefly extended my senses, but I couldn't smell or hear any other vampires in the building… but I could definitely feel one. A power that far eclipsed my own, and somehow I knew that. I walked down the hall towards the power that called out to me. The damn place was a maze, and exactly every single part of it looked the same. It occurred to me that the house was much bigger on the inside than it was outside, because I was walking at least a mile and a half, just chasing that feeling.

Eventually I came to another room, which had a coat hanger, a bench, and large, double-doors with a huge stained glass window on them. The power I felt was directly through the door. Without thinking, I walked through and found myself in a study. The walls were lined with bookshelves, which were full of books. Ahead, a figure stood in front of a lit fireplace, reading a book. Above him was the Renaissance painting Cain and Abel, the amber and red light making it and the entire place look somewhat sinister. When I walked through, the figure closed his book with a loud clap and looked at me.

He looked like a vampire Morpheus from the Matrix. He wore a red trench coat and black slacks with leather shoes that were the same color, with a black button-up and a red tie that made him look somewhat like the Devil. He was completely bald and pale as bone, but the lighting of the room made him look ghostly blue, and he wore red shades with rounded lenses that completely obscured his eyes. This man had a scholarly air about him, like I was looking at the quintessential college professor, but it was completely eclipsed by the sheer power radiating off of people. I'd seen people's auras before, seen how it indicated their mood and power. I looked at Mercurio, and if Mercurio is a battery, this guy was a nuclear reactor.

"Greetings, neonate." He said to me. His voice was low and almost monotone, cold. "I assume you have received my invitation? I've been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time. Please, sit."

I did as he said, sitting down on one of the couches in the study. The entire place was neat, but neat in the way that didn't look lived in. The only thing in this place that looked worn and used was the bookshelf.

"Yeah, I got your invitation." I said. "I assume you're M. Strauss?"

The man nodded, saying, "Maximilian Strauss. I am the Regent of this Chantry. Welcome."

There went two terms I didn't know the meaning of.

"Thank you very much." I said, nodding. "This place...what is it? I've never noticed it before."

"Ah, yes. Forgive me. I'd forgotten you were not Embraced within the Pyramid." He said, walking over to take a seat in front of me. He did a small gesture, and the modest light projected by the fire brightened enough that it was as if the room was lit by a lamp. How the hell did he do that?

"We share the same blood, you and I," He continued. "But there is much you have yet to learn about our clan."

"Our clan?" I asked. "You're...Tremere?"

"You are correct." Strauss confirmed. "As was your Sire, Justine, whom I am sure you have already heard much about. Fragments of information, I'm sure, as many knew of her, but not many knew her. This new life you find yourself in may seem strange, without a doubt, and I'm sure you have many questions. I will answer all which I am able."

"When you said, 'Embraced within the Pyramid', what did you mean?" I asked.

"It is the social structure by which our clan organizes." He explained. "You would be an acolyte, because you are currently outside of the Pyramid. This is the lowermost tier. Above you are apprentices, which are my charges, and Magisters above them, whom are my advisers, my eyes and ears within the Chantry. I am the Regent, the level above them, and above me is a Lord who watches over me and other local Regents, and so on."

"Sounds like a Pyramid scheme." I noted.

"I suppose you could call it that." Strauss said cooly. "Though scheme is a rather unfitting word. With power and secrets such as ours, a class structure such as this one is very necessary. We do not want to make sure such...power goes to the wrong hands, so our top down structure is perhaps a necessary evil."

I looked down at Justine's stuff, which I'd been subconsciously cradling in my arms. Was I supposed to have these things? Going off of what Strauss and Tung had said, Justine must've been pretty high in this Pyramid. Regardless of where I stood on the Pyramid or if I even wanted to join it, I wasn't giving up Justine's stuff. It was mine now.

"So...why exactly am I outside of the Pyramid?" I asked.

"The Tremere are usually very selective about who they Embrace. There are, after all, traditions and laws we adhere to." Strauss explained. "However...your Sire's actions were in violation of those traditions. Hence her fate."

His tone when he explained that was strange. I couldn't tell if he was unhappy or satisfied with the conclusion of Justine's trial. This Strauss guy was almost impossible to read, which in my experience came from a lot of experience lying. Considering that this guy was a vampire, I'd wondered just how many lies he'd told.

"Why would Justine violate tradition like that?" I asked. "Was she rebellious?"

Strauss paused, as if deciding on an answer. "She was not, no. Not openly, at the very least. Justine was a leader within our Organization, and held great sway due to her skills with diplomacy and her charisma. Within our clan, her sway was due to her skill in many forms of thaumaturgy."

I frowned. "Thaumaturgy?"

"Blood magic." Strauss explained. "From what I heard, you've shown quite a lot of skill in one of its paths, the Path of Blood. Often, thaumaturgy is a learned skill - you must learn it as one must learn how to read - but at times Tremere show an...innate talent for it."

So that's what it was. Blood magic. If that was magic, it wasn't what I expected. There were no magic words, no wands and staves. Furthermore, I wondered why I showed an innate talent for it? With Justine Embracing me against the rules, and me suddenly being able to intuitively use thaumaturgy...something about this didn't seem like a coincidence.

"I see...and can I get inside this Pyramid? Become an apprentice?" I asked.

"Such things are possible, Algernon." He replied. "Though for it to even become a consideration, you must prove your worth to the Tremere. We guard our secrets very well, and considering the recent behavior of your Sire, there may be distrust of you."

I scoffed. "Sins of the father, hm?"

Strauss nodded. "Indeed. Your membership within the Pyramid can perhaps be something we discuss another time. In the meantime, please be aware that your actions still reflect on the Tremere, whether you are part of our organizational structure or not."

I frowned. These guys weren't going to let me join unless I proved something to them, but I was still expected to represent them? That seemed entirely unfair. Then again, I wouldn't exactly describe my vampire existence as fair so far. If anything, this was just more of the same thing.

"And what is a Chantry?" I asked.

"A Chantry is a local gathering place for those of the Tremere clan. I live here, as do apprentices from time to time." Strauss explained. "Though as of tonight, only you and I reside here. The apprentices and Magisters below me are all tending to their own affairs this evening."

"Will I ever meet them?"

"Perhaps, on occasion." Strauss paused, looking at the door. "In fact…"

I heard a knock.

"Enter." Strauss commanded.

A woman walked through the door, dressed in a black sundress with fishnet tights a necklace with a pyramid hanging on it, and black gloves that went up to her elbows. Seeing her, I couldn't help but compare her to Justine; while her skin was bone pale, this new woman's skin is ash gray. While Justine's features were sharper, this woman's features were more regal and long, giving me the indication that she was of Middle Eastern descent. Her curly hair was cut into a bob, and there was some kind of longsword sheathed on her back. It hummed with similar power to the book in my hands.

"My apologies, Regent." She said, bowing her head. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all, Magister Kamala." Strauss answered. "I am merely giving the neonate basic answers to his questions."

The Magister gave me a sideways glance, and it wasn't kind at all.

Her tone, however, was pleasant. "I see. Regent, I have something urgent to tell you. This may not be for the ears of those low in the Pyramid."

There was a silence, and suddenly I felt like I didn't belong there. I stood up and nodded, saying, "I should get going anyway. Sunrise is in a few hours."

"Indeed it is." Strauss agreed. "I will reach out to you if your assistance is ever required, neonate. For now, I bid you goodnight."

I nodded and, without another word, walked through the doors. When I was on the other side, they closed without a single movement from either of them, as if by a ghost. Vampires sure were weird. 

* * *

Finding a hotel at 3AM in Downtown LA was all but impossible. By the time I found one, it was almost four, which gave me about an hour before sunrise. I paid for a few nights at the relatively run-down hotel and walked into my room, covering the windows with duct tape I kept in my backpack so that I didn't have to worry about the sun. Once that was done, I placed Justine's things on my bed, separating them. Of all the things that called out to me the most, the book was probably the one that did the most.

I ran my fingers along its leather cover, examining the words. They said Sanguinus Cosmographicum in big, golden letters, followed by a symbol that was a circle with a square in it, and an arrow pointer that pointed to the upper right hand corner. I could feel the subtle hum of power coming from this object, which made me scared to open it. It was like a loaded weapon, or a bomb. I ignored my anxiety and opened it, which was probably a big mistake.

An inky black darkness came right from the first page, jumping at me and swallowing me whole. It was so fast that I didn't even get the chance to react. Now I was in a massive, featureless abyss. There was no light, nothing but a void. If I stood on anything, it wasn't a visible ground. Ahead, I saw a figure slowly approaching from the shadows. As she materialized, an ethereal blue light radiated from her, illuminating the way to her. I got closer and saw that the figure appearing was Justine.

She was dressed differently from when I last saw her. Now she was in a gown made from what seemed like the night itself, stars twinkling on the fabric like diamond studs. Her long, black hair was neater than when I last saw it, and the serene expression on her face was absolutely beautiful. I didn't know why I was so in awe of her, but it was now as if I was looking at a goddess, not the girl I had a one-night stand with. She was so recognizable yet unrecognizable at the same time.

Now I was within arm's reach of her. Almost hypnotic green eyes looked up at me, and a smile formed on her features that absolutely melted me. She reached her hands up to caress the sides of my face, but the touch felt cold. Unreal. It's as if it wasn't physically her, but a phantom, a spirit. It would make sense. I saw her executed at the theater. But how could she do something like this?

"Justine…?" I asked. "I saw you die...this is impossible."

"After all you've seen, you still think about what is possible?" She asked, her tone quizzical, almost playful.

"You know what I mean."

She nodded, then lowered her hands. "I see you've been given my grimoire. LaCroix's incompetence is predictable."

"Yeah, nobody seems to really like the guy." I mused. "I guess you are - were the same way."

"You'll discover why soon enough." Justine told me. "But first, I don't have enough time. I - or rather, Justine - had placed a limited amount of time upon the spell that keeps me here. Soon, I'll fade."

"What? No!" I protested. "I have so many questions-"

"Know this, Algernon:" She interrupted me, her voice firm. "Your survival within Kindred society and the Tremere will depend largely on your ability to discern answers yourself. Vampires love taking advantage of the young and inexperienced."

Although her tone was harsh, I could tell she meant well. Strangely enough, she behaved almost completely differently from when I knew her. Before, she seemed like your average girl. Now she was authoritative, almost queenly. I didn't know if this had something to do with the fact that I was her childe, or if her behavior around me was just an act. I suppose I never truly knew Justine.

"Right...okay." I said. "What were you going to say?"

Justine's expression became neutral. "I have arranged events to occur in very specific ways." She said. "You may wonder why I chose you. This is because - and I'm being honest here - I felt a connection between you and I. I had decided in that moment to consummate that connection and make you my childe. I'd intended to explain to you everything that was undoubtedly explained to you now myself, teach you myself, but I had less time than I thought."

I was speechless. I only nodded.

"In the following nights, as events unfold, you will undoubtedly learn things about me that will be startling." Justine continued, and I could tell she was choosing her words very carefully. "But know this: the ends justify the means."

"Ends?" I asked. "What ends?"

"We are in our final nights, Algernon." She explained, as if it should be obvious. "The ancients will rouse from their sleep. We need to make sure the right one wins."

I frowned. What was she talking about?

"I...they gave me your stuff, and I feel like it's mine." I told her. "But...I don't know if I should keep it. Strauss said-"

"Do not mind what the Tremere Regent says." Justine said, cutting me off. "You feel like my effects are yours because they are yours. I had made sure that LaCroix gave them to you. Keep my coat and my satchel. The most important item is my book. In it is every discipline and Path of thaumaturgy I've learned and mastered. I hadn't been able to pass on this knowledge to you myself, so I wrote it down."

I nodded. "Okay...so you want me to keep all of this power?"

She nodded. "It is yours now. I have no need for it because...well, I'm dead."

"Right."

Justine began to fade. Although she was fairly translucent in front of me, she began to become less and less real, like a fleeting memory. My heart dropped. I didn't want her to leave, I wanted her to stay here. I didn't know why I suddenly felt so attached to her, why I'd been feeling this way over the last few nights.

"The duration of the spell is wearing off." Justine said. "I have one last thing to tell you."

"What? What is it?" I asked.

"Do not trust the Camarilla." She told me firmly.

"What? I...do you want me to be an Anarch, then?"

"No, not the Anarchs. They don't even begin to understand the forces at play here. And do not trust the Sabbat either. They're pawns as much as the Camarilla are."

"I...I don't understand. Pawns to who? If not the Anarchs or the Camarilla, then who?"

"There are more than three sides to this war, childe." Justine explained, then faded away completely. Her voice remained, however, disembodied. "Continue as you are, and you will find out soon enough."

Then the void melted around me, seeming to drain back into the book like grime getting washed away by water. The book then closed itself, and I heard low whispers in my head. After they quieted, I no longer felt the massive presence of Justine's power in her book. I only felt a low thrum from the book, a more silent and subtle power. In that moment, I knew that was my last chance to speak to Justine. That was the last time my Sire was going to speak to me.

If I wasn't alone before, I certainly was now.


	20. Southland 4-4

_**Two weeks later…**_

"Arms up." Nines instructed me.

I did as he said, keeping my arms up and turning my body to an angle. We were in the empty lot of the Last Round and Nines was giving me one of my nightly fighting lessons. At first, he went easy on me, but he sure as hell wasn't anymore. As soon as I adjusted my stance, Nines used Celerity and blurred towards me, appearing in front of me in less than a heartbeat. In a split second before he threw his punch, he activated Potence, a blueish-white electrical aura engulfing his arms and chest. I barely had enough time to block, and even then the punch threw me ten feet to the side, making me hit the ground hard.

"Need to learn how to activate your disciplines faster, kid." He instructed me.

Getting up from the ground, I activated Celerity, then Potence myself and ran towards him. I was fast, very fast, but not as fast as Nines since I was still using the two disciplines. I threw a punch, but he countered, grabbing my wrist and judo-flipping me over his shoulder. While I was on the ground, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, using the maneuver he taught me and wrapping my legs around his neck. Nines simply stood up straight, taking me with him and slammed me down to the ground hard enough to crack it. That pretty much loosened my grip, so Nines got on top of me. I rushed to protect my face as he began punching repeatedly.

"Now I'm on top of ya." He said as he threw punches. "What are you gonna do now?"

I knew the answer. Mentally, I commanded my coat - Justine's coat - to move. The tail of the coat stretched and wrapped around Nines like a tendril, flinging him across the lot. He landed into a garbage can with a loud crash and I heard him groan.

"Fuckin' blood magic…" He muttered as he got up. "You Tremere always got your tricks."

"We all have to have some." I said, grinning. "You got your grenade, I got my enchanted coat."

"You ain't always gonna have access to your magic, kid." He told me. "One of these nights, you're gonna be low on blood. You won't be able to use your tricks without goin' into frenzy. You'll have to rely on hand-to-hand."

I deactivated Celerity and Potence and shrugged, dusting the dirt from the ground off of the back of my coat.

"I'll be prepared if that kind of thing happens. For now? I'm going to rely on my tricks." I told him. 

* * *

"Sabbat chase you in here, Cammy?" Damsel asked as I took a seat. Just when I thought I was going to enjoy my night, she had to pick a fight. I never really spoke to her before, but I'd seen her, and she very obviously had a problem with me. It's probably because she thought I was Camarilla, which I had no intention of being a part of. She probably thought I was going to be part of the Camarilla because I wasn't an Anarch - I was kind of putting off joining any political groups, not just because of what Justine told me, but also because I never really liked that stuff even before being Embraced.

Damsel was hot. Annoyingly, obnoxiously hot. She'd be okay if she weren't so loud and...well, that's it, loud. She had fiery red hair, deathly pale skin, and blue eyes, and I imagine she was this pale before her undeath as well. Damsel reminded me of one of those college girls that protested literally everything because her parents were very conservative. She has a petite, sporty frame - but I knew enough about her clan, the Brujah to know that she could hit harder than fifty people twice my size. She wore black pants and a white tee shirt that had Soviet-era art on it. She also wore a green beret, Che Guevara style.

"What are you even talking about?" I asked.

She scoffed, immediately hostile. "Heard Nines saved your ass again a couple of weeks ago. That's why he's teaching you how to fight, isn't it? You think LaCroix would've stopped counting his money long enough to get your back, jack?"

I sighed deeply. "First of all-"

She cut me off immediately, poking her finger at my chest, saying, "Cammy, you'd have a whole lot less above your neck if it hadn't been for Nines calling the prince out in that courtroom. Shit! Looks like things worked out for LaCroix in the end. Got himself a new errand boy out of it."

Now she was pissing me off. The fires within me ignited, the Beast calling for blood. If she didn't get her fucking hand off of me, I was going to throw her through the nearby window. As I made eye contact, I could see the fires ignite within her as well. There was an intense moment as our vampiric natures wrestled with each other through our stare. Who the fuck did she think she was? I was just here trying to enjoy a drink.

"What the fuck did I do to piss you off, huh?" I growled.

"You're a tool for some cape." She growled right back. "You don't have to say a word to start pissing me off."

I tried to calm the urges of the Beast, but I was failing miserably. I got up out of my chair and stood so that I towered over her, but she didn't look the slightest bit intimidated. The telltale blue electrical aura began to engulf her, and I could tell she was going to throw a punch, but suddenly a figure pushed us apart. It was Jack, who I hadn't seen at all until now.

"Cool it, kiddos." He said firmly. "'Least go out for dinner first."

"She just came and started shit for no fucking reason!" I barked. "I didn't do shit."

"You don't need to do shit!" Damsel yelled. "Cammy piece of trash! Do you know where you fucking are?! What we stand for?!"

"Damsel, cool it." Jack ordered her, his voice steely calm and low, almost a growl. "Pick and choose your battles."

She opened her mouth to say something, but didn't. Instead, she just glared at me and practically stormed off downstairs presumably to punch something or passionately read Das Kapital to a crowd of children. Now that she had her back turned to me, I could take advantage. Tear her apart, maybe have a little fun in the meantime. Show her that fucking with me comes with a world of hurt.

Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I may have not needed to breathe, but the cleansing power of taking a deep breath was still there. The Beast didn't quiet, but it seemed to accept that I didn't want to do what it was suggesting, so it faded into the background noise of my mind. When I opened my eyes, Jack was looking at me with an arched eyebrow. I gave him a thumbs up, indicating that I was doing okay.

"I'm fine." I said. "Long time no see, Jack."

"Hell yeah, it has." He told me. "Sorry for Damsel. She gets real edgy when Camarilla types walk in."

"I'm not Camarilla." I told him. "What I am is trying to survive, and that happens to include doing a few things for the Prince here and there."

Jack nodded. "Fair enough. How was Santa Monica, kiddo?"

"I didn't get to do much sightseeing." I said, taking a seat back at my table. Jack chuckled and took a seat right by me.

"Can't imagine you did. Probably gettin' pushed around by every vampire with a week of seniority over you, am I right?"

"You could say that, yes."

"That's usually the way the story goes. Same old bullshit politics from when you were alive, huh? Don't it make you wanna rip someone's spine out?"

I stared at him.

He raised his eyebrows. "What? You sayin' that's just me?"

We both laughed.

"No, I wouldn't say politics is what's making me want to rip people's spines out." I told him.

"Well, that's the nature of the Beast, kiddo." Jack said. "You deal with that shit twenty four seven. Now politics? That's the stuff that makes the rich get richer, keep the powerful in power. Look at why you were in Santa Monica in the first place; cuz Prince LaCroix said so."

"I'm not doing that shit for political gain." I insisted. "Just doing it so that the Camarilla get off my ass. I guess since my Sire violated one of the Traditions, they're expecting me to be a bad apple too."

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "LaCroix is gonna hang that shit over your head 'till kingdom come, kiddo. He's gonna keep tryin' to get rid of you, lightin' the fire under your ass so that you keep doing what he says. Why do you think he sent you to Santa Monica? Cuz he never thought you'd make it back!"

That much was obvious. LaCroix clearly seemed surprised that I made it back from Santa Monica, surviving both the Sabbat warehouse and Tourette's madness, which I doubtlessly think he knew about. He probably assumed I'd be hunted down like some sort of Caitiff, or maybe that the Sabbat would destroy me in the warehouse. Now that I thought about it, the likelihood of my survival was pretty low, especially since I did all of that without knowing about anything.

"I guess I would've been toast if Nines hadn't stood up for me at the theater." I mused. "How did he survive doing that?"

"PR, man." Jack explained as if it were obvious. "'Calculated risk'. Ventrue are born in a boardroom. When Nines called him out, LaCroix realized it was time to show a carefully calculated dose of Camarilla compassion."

That much was obvious. "And from what I know about you guys, the Anarchs, you don't follow his rules."

Jack scoffed. "Damn right. LaCroix is the Prince - but only the prince of the LA Camarilla. It goes like this: telling free livin' vampires they need to be ruled is a hard sell, so the Camarilla baked up a play-nicey plan to show how great they are, that way everyone jumps on board!"

"And is it working?" I asked.

"Shit, kid. Sometimes, sometimes not." Jack admitted. "All I know is that the so-called 'Prince' is gonna have to prop me in front of a sunrise his goddamn self, cuz I'm not buying into that bullshit."

"So that's why I'm alive...PR?" I asked.

"You have to think about it this way, Al." Jack explained. "Your Sire? Her name was Justine Sanders and she was the Camarilla youth that the Prince liked to stand behind. Shit, whenever they had their goddamn meetings, half of the local Kindred would side with her! Now you got Justine, this perfect refined girl of the Camarilla, breaking one of the most fundamental rules - Siring a childe without the Prince's permission? That's a big no-no. Especially for her, especially for a Tremere."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why does it matter so much that she was a Tremere?"

"Clans like the Tremere, Ventrue, Toreador? They are the Camarilla. Most of the old assholes at the top are from those clans anyway." Jack said. "Whenever a Malkavian, a Nosferatu, or one of the Gangrel break rules, that shit's expected, y'know? But when the so-called 'noble' clans break rules? That shit's a big no-no. If it were a person that wasn't Justine, maybe someone from a different clan, someone less prim and proper, the Prince probably woulda just offed you and gave Justine some bullshit punishment. But when someone like Justine breaks the rules, both you and her get beheaded, then they sweep it under the rug quick as possible."

I mused on that for a little bit, but before I could ask another question, Skelter walked up to us.

"'Sup, Jack?" He asked, then he looked at me. "Al, just thought of something you might be able to help us out with."

I glanced at Jack and he shrugged, then I asked Skelter, "What is it?"

"Remember Patty?" He asked me.

Oh, _did_ I remember Patty. She was the ghoul of some Toreador asshole that frequented the Last Round named Alan. He was the type of guy that surrounded himself with women to protect his fragile ego. I never liked him very much, reminded me too much of the guys I used to deal with back in college. He'd gone missing recently though, which made me assume he went missing or he died. It happened, especially to Anarchs.

"I remember Patty." I said. "I don't see her around, though. I assumed she went wherever Alan went."

"No, man. Vampire sugar daddy stopped callin', now she can't get her blood fix and she ain't as fun as she used to be." Skelter told me.

I sighed. "I'm guessing she's saying stuff she shouldn't be saying."

"She crossed the line." Skelter told me. "Only time her mouth ain't blabbin' is when it's sucking on vampire blood. She's gotta disappear, you feel me?"

Disappear. It was so final. I'd killed many people at this point, all in self-defense. I'd never gone out and sought a victim myself to kill. But it had to be done. If she was a risk to the Masquerade, that could mean deep shit to all of us.

"Damn it, Alan." I hissed. "Fine, I'll do it to uphold the Masquerade - and to show you guys I'm not some Camarilla asshole that'll rat you out to LaCroix."

"Do this shit for us, and you'll be right in my book." Skelter said. "I dunno about Damsel."

For a moment, I could hear her cursing someone out downstairs. She really knew how to give someone an ear full, I'll give her that.

"Where is Patty?" I asked.

"Word on the street is she hangs by the Confession now." Jack said. "Guess since she can't get a fix off a' any o' us, she moved on to the next club."

I grabbed my satchel off of the seat next to me and then slung it onto my shoulder.

"I'll take care of it." I told them, then I left the bar. 

* * *

The Confession was one of those places that charged three hundred dollars per person to enter. Fortunately for me, that was only on weekends, and it was a Monday night, meaning the club wasn't all that busy. The inside was illuminated only with dim, red light. There were about five or six people on the dance floor, with a few people sitting at the bars. The place was pretty dead, really, but I didn't see any sign of Patty.

I walked to the bar and knocked on it to get Venus' attention. Venus was an attractive woman with shaggy black hair, deep blue eyes, revealing pink shorts, and a black crop top that plunged so low that she might as well not have been wearing it. I'd talked to her a few times when I walked into the nightclub to feed on one of the patrons, but I rarely said much to her - after all, being around attractive women made my Beast act up, more often than not.

"Ah, if it isn't Mr. Blake." She greeted me in her chirpy English accent. "Rare I see you here without you flirting with one of the lucky gals by the bar."

"Not tonight, I'm afraid." I bantered. "Actually, I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a girl named Patty? She's about...your height, brown-shoulder length hair, usually wears a beanie. Kinda skater girl-ish?"

"Hm…" Venus said. "Who is this girl? A beau of yours?"

I grinned at her wolfishly. "Something like that."

"Interesting." Venus said, grinning right back at me. "But yes, I've seen her. Last I saw her, she was over on the dancefloor. Interesting girl, that one. Keeps talking about vampires or something. You sure know how to pick them."

That pretty much confirmed what I feared. Most people won't believe a word you say if you go around talking about vampires, but there's always a chance that one person will believe it, and one person was too much. I looked out to the small crowd of dancing people and found her. How was I going to approach this one? Patty has seen me around, and if I told her to go with me into an alleyway, that would no doubt raise a few red flags in her head. She may not have been smart, but she was kine, and kine were great at surviving; they had a roughly two hundred thousand year track record to approve it.

After considering my options, I walked into the men's bathroom. I checked to see if I was in the stalls before looking at myself in the mirror. I used Obfuscate to make myself appear like someone else, like Alan the last time I saw him. He was a jock whenever he'd gotten Embraced, and he remained a jock throughout his afterlife too. My hair shortened and turned brown, my frame became more muscular, and my features went from hawkish to more blunt and chiseled. Of course, I didn't really turn into Alan; I just was making Patty think I was Alan.

Once I met Patty on the dance floor, she immediately stopped dancing and stared at me with wide eyes. That was a good indication that my trick was working. She ran towards me and hugged me tightly, which hurt just a little since her strength was well above that of an Olympic athlete's.

"Alan!" She shrilled. "Oh my god! Where were you?!"

"I just got in a bit of a hole, babe." Ugh. I hated calling her babe, but part of the Discipline I was using gave me intuitive knowledge of the mannerisms of the guy I was intimidating.

Patty stopped burying her face into my chest to smile up at me. "Oh my god, that is so you! There aren't a lot of you vampires out tonight, weird because I don't know of any parties going on."

Yes, she was extremely obnoxious. I fought the urge to knock her out right then and there. No, I couldn't. I had to get her somewhere private, somewhere nobody could see me...well, you know. I knew the prospect of killing a woman whose only crime was talking about vampires should be something that chills me, but whenever I thought about it, I just couldn't bring myself to care.

Ignoring my apparent moral degradation, I replied to her, "I know, right? Anyway, Patty, let's go somewhere...private, yeah? I know it's been a while since you got a fix."

"In public? Ooh, Alan…" She playfully hit my chest. "Let's go. I'm fuckin' thirsty."

I led her to the alleyway across the street and made sure there was nobody else there. Surprisingly there wasn't a soul there except for the rats. Once we were there, Patty smiled up at me. I pulled her in, my fangs popping out. I leaned in towards her neck to drain her dry...only for her to punch me so hard that I crashed into the nearby dumpster. It didn't really hurt by any means, it just surprised me. She must've seen through my Obfuscation.

"I'm not stupid, you know!" She chided. "You think I know you're not Alan! Alan is way smoother than you are!"

Groaning, I got up and rubbed the back of my head. Patty was very annoying.

"Okay, look." I began, allowing the illusion changing my appearance to drop. "You've been talking to much. I need to-"

"Oh my god!" She screamed. "You're going to kill me!"

I looked behind myself. People weren't looking, but they'll begin to if she keeps yelling.

"Calm down-"

"N-No!" She panicked. "I'm not going to let you kill me!"

And then, faster than any kine I'd seen, she took off running down the alley. Why can things never be simple?

I sprinted after her, not activating any of my disciplines because of the possibility I'd get spotted. Patty, on the other hand, wasn't being as careful. She activated Celerity and began running even faster than she was, not nearly as fast as Nines or Jack, but fast enough to raise more than a few eyebrows. When she reached the dead end of the alley, she only ran up the wall and kicked off, vaulting over the railing of the nearby fire escape and running to the roof of the building. I did the same, reaching the top seconds after she had. By the time I reached her, she was already jumping to the next building.

I went after her, jumping and landing in a roll. I reached into my satchel to take out my pistol, which had been just floating around in the bag's infinite space waiting for me to grab it. I ran after her and attempted to aim, but while I was now pretty decent with aiming, I wasn't decent enough to get a clear shot while running. When I shot, I got her in the back of her thigh, which only slowed her down a little. She was a ghoul, so she could take a gunshot a lot better than any human. Regardless, it slowed her down enough that she was unable to use Celerity anymore, which made catching up to her easy.

"You fucker!" She shrieked. Instead of trying to run again, she activated the lowest level of Potence and lunged at me, her eyes wide and crazy, almost feral. Yet again, she surprised me and tackled me, scratching at my face like some kind of madwoman. It didn't really affect me and I got her off of me, pistol-whipping her in the face and getting on top of her instead. Now was my chance, I could finish the job.

Instead of shooting her, I began to strangle her. Shooting her would cause too much noise, and I didn't want to get caught by whoever occupied the apartment building we were on. She squirmed and scratched at me, but she wasn't nearly strong enough to get me off of her. Patty was weak, nothing but an annoying, misguided ghoul who wasn't smart enough to keep her mouth shut. Now she was going straight to hell with Alan. I grit my teeth and watched as the life drained from her eyes, but the fight wouldn't leave her. So I lifted her, slamming her head into the ground so hard that blood splattered from her now cracked skull.

It was done. She lay lifeless beneath me, her eyes wide with horror and desperation.

Oh god, I'd just killed an innocent woman. I killed an innocent woman and...I liked it. What was happening to me? I knew what I did was wrong but...I didn't feel that tinge of guilt deep within my stomach. In fact, I felt nothing at all. I stood up and looked down at Patty's corpse. She may have been annoying, but she was someone and I killed her. Even though I had to, even though it was to uphold the Masquerade, I had still made the conscious decision to kill her. Now I was beginning to question if I even recognized myself.

I lifted her body and dropped down from the top of the building, landing sixty feet into the nearby alleyway. I tossed Patty's body into the dumpster for someone else to find in the morning, then I went back out into the night as if nothing had just happened.


	21. Southland 4-5

**A/N: **And this is the end of the Southland Arc! Next will be an interlude from Andrei. I hope you've been enjoying the story thus far! Sorry the uploads have been slowing down. My sleeping schedule isn't what it used to be, so I've had a hard time writing between naps. 

* * *

"I've said all I need to for now." LaCroix said, speaking to the four standing in front of his desk. I saw Strauss looking rather displeased, as well as a Nosferatu in a tuxedo and two others I didn't recognize - likely a Toreador and Ventrue, judging by the way they dressed. There was a period of silence as they exchanged looks, then turned to walk past me and leave the room, not even giving me a second glance.

Once they were gone, I walked over to LaCroix's desk. I opened my mouth to tell him what happened with the Elizabeth Dane, the recon mission he told me - no, forced me to go on, but he immediately cut me off.

"I don't have time for another monologue." He snapped at me. "Just give me the… bullet points of what you saw."

The Camarilla vampires I'd spoken to insisted the Prince was charming sometimes - when they allowed me to speak my mind about him at all. I was still waiting for the "sometimes" where he was charming.

"Everyone on board was massacred." I explained. "There weren't any survivors."

LaCroix's expression worsened. "And the Ankaran Sarcophagus?"

I shook my head. "There was blood all over the floor...looked like it was opened within."

Which freaked me out much more than I could possibly express. When LaCroix told me to go find a sarcophagus on a highly guarded cargo ship, I assumed he was trying to kill me again, giving me ridiculous stories of ancient vampire legends. Even Strauss laughed the idea off when I asked him about these so called "sleeping ancients". But between what LaCroix was saying, and what Justine had told me weeks ago...well, seeing the sarcophagus opened up was the final straw.

"Opened?" LaCroix asked incredulously. Was that panic in his voice? "Let's not jump to conclusions. Give me the manifest and your notes, and I'll sort this mess later. You might have noticed when you came in, the parade of malingering mollycoddles filing about."

Malingering mollycoddles. I'd have to use that one. I took the manifest and notes out of the bottomless space of my satchel and handed them over.

"I'm sure you'll have it all sorted out soon, your Majesty." I said, trying my damndest to sound genuine. "Is there anything else you require of me?"

"No. However...I've decided to reward your efforts thus far." He told me, opening the drawer beneath his desk and handing me two keys on a key ring. "I'm aware that I may seem demanding at times. Just know that everything I do is for the protection of all Kindred within LA, and that your astounding talents are not going unnoticed."

Translation: he's heard I've been speaking badly about him. I needed to watch what I say, especially since the Prince's eyes and ears were everywhere. Since I was considered political terra incognita by factions within the city, I was treated, at best, warily by the Anarchs and heavily surveyed by the Camarilla. I didn't want to make an enemy of LaCroix until everyone trusted me enough to understand I wouldn't become a Tradition-violating monster like my Sire. Even if I were to just up and leave, the Prince of the next town I go to would probably have me executed on the spot. I had to watch my mouth in LA, because LaCroix may not respond by rewarding me next time.

I took the keys. "What are these?"

"Keys to your new Haven." The Prince explained. "Skyeline Apartments, apartment 4C."

"Thank you very much, my Prince." I said, bowing my head for a moment.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Blake. Please remember to check your email for any assignments I may have for you." He told me.

I nodded and, with that, I left the room. As I took the elevator down to the lobby, I couldn't help but wonder why LaCroix was rewarding me. If anything, it would make him look weak - though I'd noticed none of his Primogen or any other Kindred were in the room at the time of him rewarding me. This gave me the indication that he wanted to keep me as an ally rather than kill me or punish me, which made me wonder just what kind of game was at play here. I felt like a pawn, but who's pawn was I? The Prince's? Or Justine's?

If anything, this was proving what Jack and Nines said about the Camarilla correct, but I wasn't exactly prepared to drink their kool-aid either. Joining the Anarchs would require dedication and fighting for a cause that I wasn't so sure would work in practice. It was as Justine said - they probably didn't know what was at play here, and I felt that was true. Lately, I'd felt a creeping sense of dread, a feeling that moved me whenever I rose at night. Was it what Beckett had told me about weeks ago? Was I finally attuned to it?

As I left the lobby, I exchanged a few words with Officer Chunk and walked through the front doors. There, I was surprised with a familiar face, who greeted me at the entrance like an excited puppy. It was the redhead I'd saved at the hospital so many nights ago. Now she looked considerably less wounded, and more prettied up, as if she were on her way to a club. Tonight she dressed suitably for the warm Spring night, clad in a green dress that went halfway down to her knee and a slightly plunging neckline, revealing enough cleavage to be enticing but covering up enough that she'd still be allowed in a dinner party. She had her glasses on, which covered her doe-like green eyes, which seemed...different from the last time I met her.

When I saw her, my blood reacted. It was powerful and unstoppable, like a wave or a force of nature. Whether I liked it or not, I viewed her as _mine_. As my property, a doll with whom I could do anything with. When we saw each other, we made eye contact, and an intense exchange happened between us. Her expression went from awe to total adoration, then finally settling on submission. She wanted to be mine. I already owned her soul.

"H-Hey!" She began, her tone timid, meek. "I-I know this might seem creepy and all...but please don't blow me off, okay?"

"Speak." I commanded her, my voice coming out a lot more sternly than I'd originally intended.

"S-Someone told me that I could find you here." She told me. "I mean, I've been looking all over for you since that night, because I wanted to… I'm in your debt."

I tilted my head. My debt? As she said that, I could hear her heart racing at a thousand beats per minute. I could hear the blood rushing through her veins and smell the pheromones coming off of her. She smelled absolutely delicious. And she's all mine.

Holy fuck, what's happening?

"I want to...to help you…" She continued onwards as another heated glance passed between us. "I owe you my life and… I feel like I need to repay you. Oh, I almost forgot - I'm Heather. Heather Poe. I'm...not weirding you out, am I?"

Oh, she wasn't weirding me out. I knew ghouls were often drawn to their domitors - the vampires that fed them blood, but I didn't know my Beast would react in such a way. The worst part was that it was such a primal, base-level feeling that I didn't know if I disagreed with what it was saying. Was I straying from my humanity too much? That couldn't be. I did everything I possibly could to remain in touch with my humanity.

I realized I was staring at her, and for a moment she looked like a deer in headlights.

"Weirding me out is pretty hard to do these nights." I said, waving my hand dismissively. "But you...you look a lot better. I'm glad."

"Only because of you - what you did for me." She said, the words spilling from her mouth. My gaze wandered down to her neckline. She was so exposed. So vulnerable.

I resisted my Beast. "It was nothing, really. Just...you were stabbed and nobody was helping you. Did you just come from a party?"

"Hm?" She asked, then she looked down at her dress. I saw her blush. "N-No, I don't really...I… Oh god, Heather, you're looking weird…"

"Not at all." I promised her. "What were you saying?"

"Oh! Here...I got you this." Heather handed me a silver ring. I didn't know what I was supposed to do with it, but I suppose I could pawn it for a decent amount of money.

"I thought you might be able to use it." She explained. "I can be useful to you...I'd do anything - just tell me you'll let me help you… let me… let me stay with you… make me feel this way."

_You'll be useful to me alright._

I knew I should've said no. I knew that pulling a ghoul into my world wouldn't lead to much. But I also knew that she was better off with me, that ghouls that went without blood for a long time were vicious, and a danger to the Masquerade to boot. I knew that I'd initiated her into the supernatural world the moment I decided to give her blood, whether I knew it or not. Now I had to protect her, to keep her safe. And damn it, this had nothing to do with the fact that I wanted to tear off her clothes and do things only the cavemen found acceptable.

"Of course, Heather." I said. "I'd love for you to stay with me."

She beamed. "Really?! I promise you won't regret it! Promise! I'll pay you rent, I'll get you things… everything! I want to be…important to you."

"Well, luckily for us, we'd just gotten a new place." I told her, holding up my keys. "Did you bring any spare stuff?"

"I do!" She said. "My stuff is at the hotel...the one you were staying at. It's a coincidence, I promise! I just...might need help moving my things in." 

* * *

My new haven in the Skyeline Apartments was, mercifully, without a window. That was probably the thing I liked the most about it, the fact that it saved me from having to duct tape the windows of any place I'd crashed in. It was a very nice high-rise with a loft atop the second floor, complete with a fancy computer and a queen-sized bed, followed by a walk-in closet. The entire place was fully furnished already, with comfortable-looking couches and loveseats in the living room, as well as a glass coffee table and a flat screen TV on the wall. Behind the living room was a kitchenette and a fridge full of blood packs - I'd have to get food for Heather, since she was now living with me.

"Wow…" She muttered as we entered. I placed her stuff down by the fish tank that was embedded in the alcove in the wall. "I've only seen places like this on TV...this is our new home?"

Our new home. I thought. It was strange, I'd lived with people before. Roommates, girlfriends. And I always hated it, the reduced privacy. But since it was Heather, I felt oddly okay with it - and I didn't know if it was the Beast subtly influencing my feelings.

"Seems like it." I said, hanging my leather duster on the nearby coat rack and placing my satchel on the couch. "I'll help you put everything away...but first, we need to establish a few things."

Heather turned to me, nodding, her doe-like eyes planted on my face. "Okay. Anything...as long as I get to stay. Y-You don't...have a girlfriend, do you?"

"What?" I asked. "No, I don't."

"B-Because I'm totally okay if you do!" She continued. "I'm okay with being your number two as long as-"

"Heather, I don't have a girlfriend." I said. "Things have been pretty wild lately, so I don't have much time for romance."

She frowned. "How have things been wild?"

"Well…" I began. "This is actually pretty relevant to what I was going to tell you. I'm a vampire."

There was a moment of silence. I studied Heather's expression, but I couldn't get a proper read on her. It seemed like she was lost in thought, and for a moment I was tempted to probe her mind with Auspex...but I refrained. It wasn't as if I had any qualms with doing it - after all, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, especially with kine. But I did read the mind of a Malkavian once, just to see if this whole "madness" thing was legitimate, and it took me a few nights to recover from that one.

"I...I always knew, I just…" She turned her gaze back to me. "W-Wow...are the...movies true? Should I not cook with garlic…?"

That made me chuckle. "The movies are only partially true - garlic does nothing to me. But I don't eat, I only drink blood."

"Oh...so garlic and I'm assuming crosses are fine?" She asked.

I smirked. "Why? Are you religious?"

She blushed and looked down. "N-No! I-I mean...it's okay if you are. I just...are vampires religious?"

That one made me laugh. She was adorable.

"Well, no." I said. "At least, I'm not. Some of us are, though. But yes, crosses are fine."

"Okay. What about fire?" She asked.

"That one is actually a weakness. Can't touch that one."

"Silver?"

"The ring you gave me was silver."

"Oh - right...sorry. Um...how about sunlight? Is that one true?"

"See how pale I am? I don't sun tan. Yeah, sunlight is a big no-no for me. It's why I sleep during the day."

"Oh...I was wondering if you slept…"

"Yep. I need to sleep. Just like you. But I don't get tired."

"So you don't eat...you sleep during the day...and I'm assuming you don't-"

"Nope, my body doesn't produce waste. I'm dead. I'm a corpse."

"Right...it sounds like you're-"

"The easiest roommate ever?"

That made her smile. I smiled right back at her and went to the couch, grabbing my satchel. I reached into my back and took out Justine's grimoire. I'd learned so much from it, from Justine's studies. With the Sanguinis Cosmographicum, I'd been learning Disciplines that would take other Kindred years to learn and master. It was a powerful book, and for some reason I could only access half of it. The rest of the pages were blank, and it wasn't due to Justine not writing more either. The writing was hidden from me with an enchantment. Either way, I didn't want Heather looking into it. Who knows what could happen to her?

"Anyway, a few ground rules." I began. "I'm usually out and about at night. I'll come in occasionally if I have no business to tend to, but other than that, this place is all yours. What's mine is yours, just make sure to keep everything clean. And don't touch my stuff. It isn't for human hands."

Heather nodded obediently. "Okay, I won't touch your stuff. Anything else?"

I smiled. If anything, it was nice to have company. Even if I had accidentally enthralled her, she seemed happy to be here - and as long as I didn't treat her badly, this wasn't exactly a bad thing, right? Besides, she'd also make a good constant supply of blood, which meant I could hurt less people by feeding on her. I'm sure she'd be happy to provide.

"No." I told her. "Now come here."


	22. Interlude: the Secret War (Andrei)

**A/N: **An interlude chapter that shows what Andrei has been up to and the events to come. Hope you guys enjoy! 

* * *

Andrei had been around for a while. He'd been around much longer than most Kindred in the city, certainly much longer than that damned Camarilla Prince. He'd been around so long that "Andrei" wasn't even his birth name. The name he was born with, the skin he wore as one of the kine have all been discarded in favor of what he has become now. His flesh had been roughened like a reptile's, his skull had elongated. He had reached a level of transcendence, and his metamorphosis still continued.

It's been long since he had shed his humanity. So long that he no longer mourned what was lost, only looked forward to what came next. Justine Sanders, the defector from the Camarilla, had come to him in hopes of gaining his secrets, becoming his apprentice. He had turned her down, of course, because he knew better than to trust a Tremere thief. But unfortunately, orders came directly from the Cardinal to accept her under his aegis. He wasn't happy with this by any means, but he knew better than to disobey an order from Frost.

She had promised to Sire a powerful childe after diablerizing her own Sire to prove her loyalty, a childe that will destroy the Camarilla from the inside and make way for the victory of the Sabbat. She had passed her initiation, proving that she was willing to betray her allies in the Camarilla - something that Andrei had to begrudgingly respect. Of course, Justine Sanders dying wasn't part of the plan, and her Childe destroying the warehouse was definitely not part of the plan. He had consulted Frost on this, and he had insisted that they merely wait. The packs were growing restless, and frankly he was too. He was done waiting.

"Archbishop." Maximus called from the door of his study, the Tremere antitribu that worked below him as Bishop. Once Andrei gestured for him to enter, he walked over to the Archbishop and took a knee. Andrei had gotten a sense of vindictive satisfaction out of making one of Tremere blood bow before him, even if he is of a different House. Mages were untrustworthy, hubristic, and treasonous, no matter what mongrel they claim to serve.

"Speak, my child." Andrei ordered.

"Yes, Archbishop." Maximus said, raising his head from its bowed position, but remaining on a knee. "The Brotherhood of the 9th Circle have arrived. They are outside. They've come to ask your permission to operate within LA, my lord."

Andrei raised his chin in interest. The Brotherhood of the 9th Circle? They were a traveling Sabbat pack, murderous and dangerous, but useful. After consideration, he merely shook his head and made a gesture to let Maximus know it was okay to let them in. Maximus stood up and walked to the double doors of Andrei's study, letting the pack in.

Each member of the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle had long transcended their shovelhead status to become the horrors they were today. The first man that came through was a man they called Bishop Vick, and he was the apparent ductus of the pack, their leader. He was an absolute freakshow, covered up to his neck in tattoos, with the symbol of the Brotherhood on his left breast. He had his shirt off completely to show all the pack to which he belonged, something which Andrei could respect. Nothing was worse than a Cainite that hid his true nature. It was one thing for a Cainite to show his nature as a monster, lording himself over humans and wearing the demands of the beast upon his sleeve, but it is another to embrace the desires of the Beast, to use the blood and will of Caine to guide your actions. Bishop Vick was clearly the one who embraced the Beast, and thus he had Andrei's respect.

The rest flooded in after him: Jezebel Locke, the Toreador temptress, with her blood red hair and her low, revealing neckline. Next to Jezebel was the hideous Brother Kanker, shirtless and covered in his diseased, curdled flesh. By them was the Malkavian pack priestess, Rowena Marburg, and her hair was shaved completely bald, with enough piercings showing on her body to make her look like a pin cushion. In the back lingered the Gangrel brute, Wulf, who no longer resembles anything remotely human due to his clan curse, but rather an animalistic abomination of various animal features, mainly sharp talons for hands, a coarse fur pelt, the tail of a scorpion and the head of a panther. The last one that stood with them was Peabody of the Kyasid bloodline - an offshoot of the Lasombra - in the corner, with skin so pale that it was nearly transparent, long, dark hair, and eyes as black as midnight.

"We thank you for allowing us into your haven, your Holiness." Bishop Vick began, speaking for his pack in a tone similar to how a preacher would speak to his flock. "I assume your Bishop has alerted you of our reason for being here?"

"He is _not_ my Bishop, child." Andrei growled, the lights dimming for a moment in his anger.

Maximus flinched, and Andrei could see Bishop Vick switch gears.

"Of course not." The Bishop said. "I apologize. I should not have assumed."

"You shouldn't have." Andrei said, standing from his chair. He was always a startlingly tall man, even before he changed his body to fit his personalized metamorphosis. Now, he towered over everyone in the room, save for maybe Peabody, who still lingered in the shadows, still and silent as a wraith.

"But I am willing to forgive your assumption." The Archbishop continued. "You may operate within Los Angeles...however, under one specific condition."

"Of course, your Holiness." Bishop Vick said. "Anything."

Andrei paused for a moment. What he is doing may be a violation of the Cardinal's rules, but the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle doing this as opposed to any packs beneath him grants him a certain plausible deniability. He was tired of waiting for Justine's gambit to reach its conclusion, and he wasn't going to sit while her Childe acted as a spanner in his works and destroyed members of his flock under the orders of his foolish Prince. Normally, the Archbishop didn't question Cardinal Frost's wisdom, but as of late he had become prone to overly complicated schemes that failed to benefit the Sabbat.

"As you operate in my city, you are to wage war on the Camarilla heretics and the foolish Anarchs." Andrei instructed them. "Spread your disease to the local kine, affect their food supply so that they starve."

"Of course, your Holiness." Bishop Vick said, grinning. "We will gladly spread our blessing among the kine. And we will bring the heads of the Camarilla's Primogen to your haven so that we may serve our duty to a servant of the Dark Father such as yourself." 

* * *

_**Weeks earlier….**_

"Cardinal...if you can forgive me, I do not mean to question your wisdom...but I do not understand why you're so intent on trusting the word of that Tremere." Andrei told his cardinal, Antonio Frost.

Currently, he was on a knee in front of the Cardinal, who was there only as a projection of his will. Cardinal Frost was the single most powerful vampire he'd ever met, save for Regent Galbraith herself when he'd gone to Mexico City. Frost struck an imposing figure, both tall and solid in physique, but deathly pale in pallor, almost ghostly even when physically present and not a projection. He had long, black hair that was entirely slicked back, and deep purple eyes. Frost must have been a little over thirty when he was first Embraced, but his youth was merely superficial. He'd been alive for much longer than Andrei has.

"And you do not need to understand, Archbishop." The Cardinal said, his tone cold and ironclad. "This is the long game, Andrei. The death of kine and destruction of a warehouse is not an object to the overall goals of the Sabbat."

"Of course not, Cardinal." Andrei agreed. "However, it would be foolish to ignore the complaints of the packs within the city, would it not? They grow restless, your eminence."

"Then control them." Frost ordered firmly. "I will not accept a lack of faith from my Archbishop."

"It isn't that I lack faith, your eminence, it is that I distrust the Tremere and her plan." Andrei insisted. "I believe she is playing us for a fool."

"Do not trust the Tremere, but trust her vision." The Cardinal instructed him. "She has Sired a powerful childe as she had promised, but now that she had perished, we may manipulate the childe ourselves. He can be the sword with which we destroy the Camarilla and the Anarchs."

Andrei had the feeling the Cardinal knew something that he didn't. This wasn't uncommon among the Sabbat, he knew, but he had the feeling that he didn't harbor the best interests in heart for him and his flock. The elder vampire wanted to have faith, but such faith tended to waver in the face of such secrets.

"Of course, Cardinal." The Archbishop said, bowing his head.

Frost nodded firmly. "Now, do you have any further concerns?"

"No, your eminence."

The Cardinal vanished, the lights in Andrei's study blinking on and off before turning back on. Now that Andrei was alone, he could visibly show his anger. His Beast lashed out, and he grabbed a human from one of the alcoves of flesh he'd grafted into the wall, pulling her out and tearing into her throat. She screamed in something between horror and bliss as the Tzimisce elder feasted upon her crimson essence, and he threw her lifeless body to the ground. His fury wasn't sated, but it had died down enough for him to think.

Frost had obviously been compromised, but he cannot act against his Cardinal without repercussion. If a war is to be fought against the Camarilla and Justine Sanders' childe destroyed, it must be a war fought in secret, a war fought indirectly. Once again, he grabbed two humans from the alcoves he'd grafted into the walls and used Vicissitude to fuse their flesh and blood together. He sculpted an abomination, ignoring their screams and cries as their bodies were forced to warp to Andrei's will.

If Frost will not look out for the Sabbat of LA, Andrei will.


	23. Epidemic 5-1

_**A/N: **_Hey! This is going to be a pretty action-packed arc to make up for how boring the last arc may have been. I'm sorry, guys. I look forward to writing this one, though! I hope you guys enjoy. 

* * *

_****_

_**Three months later…**_

"...In other news, the outbreak of the blood disease now being called the 'Red Plague' has been traced to a serial killer group known as the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle." The late night newsman announced. "CDC and LAPD are teaming up to stop the spread of the illness and are enstating a curfew for all citizens after 6PM. Police say that anyone out after curfew can potentially be criminally charged. More on this at 4."

I was lounging on my couch in my haven, and Heather was cuddled up on top of me in her pajama shorts and tank top. This epidemic had already been identified by the Camarilla - specifically by the Tremere - as being spread by the Sabbat, but everyone was on standby until they found the exact cause. Strauss had been working on a cure. The plague had been killing off the local kine, degrading the quality of their blood, which isn't very good for the Kindred.

Once the news station went to commercials, Heather gazed up at me, which made me stop petting her hair. It took awhile for me to get this comfortable with her. Some part of me felt guilty for enthralling her...but that part was very, very small and quiet. The rest of me began to think of Heather as a pet and a companion. She was certainly useful in most cases, provided good conversation.

"This whole disease thing…it doesn't have anything to do with you guys, right?" Heather asked.

"Not at all." I lied, bringing down my hand to caress her cheek. "We're not behind everything, you know."

She chuckled, propping her chin on my chest. "No, only the passage of history since medieval times."

I smirked at that. "Okay, we're only behind most things. But we aren't behind this plague. We're trying to find a cure."

"Is it because it affects the blood…?" Heather asked. "That's bad for you guys, right?"

I didn't answer. Heather was great and all, but sometimes she asked too many questions. In the months since she'd started living with me, I tried to make it seem that we Kindred weren't the horrible, amoral monsters that we were. This was helped greatly by the fact that I didn't let her meet any of the vampires that I knew, nor did I let her glimpse into my world beyond just the surface level, but sometimes her questions revealed a particularly painful truth about myself: I was a monster. And I was becoming more and more of one as the days went by. Between running errands for the Anarchs and the Camarilla, I'd gained quite a bit of blood on my hands.

Heather was going to ask me another question, but she quickly turned her head towards the door as if she heard something. Ghouls often gained weaker versions of their domitor's powers, and lately she'd displayed lower levels of Auspex that enhanced her senses. Just a moment after she turned her head, I heard the doorbell ring. Strange, I don't usually have visitors - just the few friends that Heather would make at school, people she'd want to meet me. It was all becoming a bit of a mess, but I was willing to do it if it kept Heather happy. After all, as long as she was happy, she'd be with me.

"I'll get it!" She said, getting up off of me and padding to the door. When she opened it, I saw Magister Kamala standing at the other side. She was dressed in black pants and a red tee shirt with a black blazer, a gun holstered to her side. Her hair was done into a neat bun, which further accentuated her exotic features and the rounded lines of her face. She was pretty in a distant, inaccessible way.

"Oh...hi." Heather said, raising an eyebrow. "Can I hel-"

"I'm here to see Algernon. He's here, no?" She asked, her tone businesslike. I didn't know Kamala very well, but I had a feeling that indicated she wasn't very happy.

I got up from the couch and moved behind Heather, gently putting a hand on the small of her back to indicate for her to get out of the way. She did so immediately. Now that I saw Kamala, I saw that she might be starving. The indication of a struggle within played out right in her eyes, especially when she looked at Heather. Regardless, she remained outwardly calm, even managing to tilt her head in slight curiosity.

"A girlfriend?" She asked.

"Ghoul." I replied flatly.

"Ah. A pet. I remember my first ghoul." Kamala's gaze turned to me. "She died. You're only going to lose her."

"I don't want to talk about it. What do you want?"

"Grab your things, neonate. The Prince wants us in his suite."

I suppressed the urge to sigh. What could it be now? It wasn't that I was weary or anything - I no longer got tired. But being the Prince's errand boy was starting to grow old. Being everyone's errand boy was growing old. If it was already growing old, I was in trouble because I had at least a century more of being pushed around before people started respecting me. Without another word, I grabbed my duster off of the coat rack by the door and my leather satchel. After gathering my stuff, I went upstairs to talk to Heather.

"I'm going out." I told her. "Might be back very late. Don't wait up for me, okay?"

She nodded. "Where are you going?"

I looked downstairs at Kamala impatiently waiting for me at the door and sighed.

"Right into the mouth of trouble." I replied. 

* * *

LaCroix's office was more chaotic than I'd ever seen it. As soon as we entered the double doors, my ears were assaulted with the sound of Kindred bickering and yelling at each other. This is because some idiot thought it was a good idea to put the LA Anarchs and the Camarilla in the same room. Around the room, I saw well-dressed vampires yelling at vampires dressed in more casual clothing. All things considered, I was surprised weapons weren't being brandished and that they were yelling at each other. Judging by the overall feel of the room, however, it seemed that it was getting to that point.

Kamala looked absolutely irritated. As did Prince LaCroix, who was sitting at the far end of the room behind a long table with Strauss, the Nosferatu Primogen Gary Golden, Tourette Voerman as Therese, Jack from the Last Round, and the Banu Haquim Primogen Mohammed Aziz. They were all speaking among each other but not the Prince. I saw LaCroix lean in to whisper into Strauss' ear beside him. Strauss nodded and presumably used Auspex to project his command into the minds of everyone in the room.

_"Everyone, remain calm and take a seat, please."_

His voice was louder than any of the shouting in the room, yet still gentle and even-toned enough to leave no room to interpret that he was yelling. Everyone in the room stopped and looked at him, then went to take seats. I went to sit near the back in one of the unoccupied spaces, away from both the Anarchs and the Camarilla. Once everyone was seated and relatively quiet, LaCroix stood up from his seat and buttoned up his blazer. Everyone in the room immediately placed their attention on him, save for a few including me. Upon looking at him with Auspex, I saw that he was using Presence to command the attention of most of the room.

"My fellow Kindred," He began, the irritation barely repressed in his voice. "Today, the Camarilla and the Baron of the Santa Monica Anarch Movement are proposing a collaboration between our two sects to brave the threat of the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle."

"Collaboration?!" I heard Nines speak up. "Yeah the fuck right! You just want to use us as pawns and take the fucking credit for brownie points with your old ass masters!"

The irritation again flickered on LaCroix's face, but he remained calm.

"I am actually quite glad that Mr. Rodriguez had shared his opinion on this matter." The Prince said. "I can assure you, neither me nor my Primogen intend on reporting our potential success in this operation to our Justicars or the Inner Circle. This issue is entirely self-contained within Santa Monica and Los Angeles, so there is simply no one to report this to."

Nines didn't say anything, but I was guessing he didn't look happy.

"Now, if I may continue without further objections," The Prince continued. "The Tremere Primogen Maximilian Strauss and his Chantry have worked extensively to find a cure to this Red Plague and had finally achieved success. Baron Therese Voerman and I will collaborate, using our connections to various medical centers in LA and Santa Monica to distribute this cure, but we must first deal with the matter of the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle. They are still mass embracing and slaughtering the kine indiscriminately, which is an existential threat to the Kindred of both of our cities, as I'm sure you can imagine."

Strauss spoke up. "Without the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle eliminated, all attempts at curing this plague will be futile. Now, we do not know if the Brotherhood is of Sabbat affiliation-"

"Of course they're fuckin' Sabbat!" One of the Kindred, presumably an Anarch heckled from the crowd.

Strauss ignored them. "-So open warfare with the LA Sabbat is out of the question. It could tip the delicate balance of power both of our sects have in this city, and provide an opening for the Kuei-jin to launch a counterattack. We do not want that. So for now, we will focus solely on the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle."

"Through the efforts of Primogen Gary Golden's spies throughout Los Angeles and Santa Monica, we have managed to find the members of the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle." Therese said, speaking up. "The members are as follows: Brother Kanker who is located in the sewers of Downtown LA, Jezebel Locke who has frequented hospitals in Downtown LA and is posing as a prostitute, Bishop Vick, though his location is unknown at this time. In Santa Monica is a 7th Generation Gangrel known as Wulf who seems to prowl the beaches and outskirts of the city, and a Kyasid spree killer by the name of Peabody. Now, there was another member, but-"

"Her name was Rowena." Jack said, interjecting himself into Therese's announcement. "Malkavian. Dark Thaumaturge. Skelter and I caught her outside the convention center, took her down."

For a moment, there was silence. Irritation flickered over Therese's features, but she composed herself as quickly as it happened.

"...That leaves just the members I'd mentioned, then." She said. "Mr. Golden?"

Gary Golden stood up. The man looked absolutely horrifying, and I was several feet away from him.

"All of the vampires in this pack are 9th generation and below." Gary told the crowd, his voice raspy like a knife scraping against rock. "New age elders. From what I've been able to gather, they travel, completely wipe out kindred within a city, kill a few hundred kine in a city until they get bored, and then move on. My people have found records of them stretching back to the 40's, though they are probably much older than that."

"We will be separating all of those that are combat-ready into coteries, then we'll assign them to specific members of the Brotherhood." LaCroix said. "The superior of your coterie will then call their assigned number to report the assigned member dead. The rest of you will be intelligence-gathering and assisting Ms. Voerman and I with distributing the cure."

The rest of the meeting was Therese assigning the teams. Jack, Skelter, and a thin-blood named Jenna Cross, who I'd seen around but didn't know, with Jack as the leader, getting assigned to taking down Peabody. The rest were no-names: Nines being grouped with a Camarilla Nosferatu named Gregory, who was grouped with an Anarch named Mira Mendez. There were a few more new names after that, which made me realize that I hadn't met most Kindred in LA. They were probably avoiding me on account of my Sire. When I heard my name, my still heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.

"Algernon Blake, independent." Therese called out. "You will be with Damsel O'Hara, Anarch, Kamala Al-Fasi, Camarilla, and Tanner Khan, independent. Kamala Al-Fasi will the assigned coterie leader. You are all assigned to Brother Kanker."

_Oh no._ I thought.

I wasn't worried about Tanner. I didn't know him. But Kamala? She was the Camarilla hardass next to Strauss. The few times I did encounter her, she regarded me coldly and rudely, treating as someone beneath her - which, to be fair, I was if we were talking about the Pyramid. Putting her in the same team as Damsel was a recipe for disaster. Who's fucking idea was this? Was this LaCroix trying to kill me again?

I saw Damsel and Kamala glare daggers at each other from across the room. Then Damsel glared at me.

This was going to be one hell of a night.


	24. Epidemic 5-2

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait for this chapter! I actually had severe writer's block when it came to this one. I know how I want this chapter to go, but getting there proved a little more difficult than I expected. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Reviews are always appreciated, if you have the time. Also, shoutout to my new follower! You know who you are. 

* * *

"I cannot fucking believe I was lumped together with the two Cammy poster children!" Damsel said in that usual lack-of-an-inside-voice tone of hers. Kamala remained stoic, though I saw her eyebrow twitch ever so slightly in irritation, a sign of her waning patience. Damsel had been ranting since we'd left LaCroix's tower, and it was even beginning to wear on my nerves too.

"While your input is valued, Damsel," Kamala said, maintaining a diplomatic tone. "The leader of both of our sects-"

"The Anarchs don't have a leader!" Damsel barked. "There's no fucking heirarchy! Do you understand? None! Or have you spent so long with that silver spoon shoved down your throat by your masters that you don't know what it's like?"

"Please. As I was saying-"

"And you!" Damsel interrupted her, looking at me and dragging me into the conversation. "You're okay with working with this Camarilla bitch?! I thought you were indie!"

"I am." I said. "I don't like being pushed around by the Camarilla either. But I realize that we're facing an existential threat."

She sneered at me. "You know, Nines says you'd be a good Anarch. Frankly, I don't fucking see it since you're so willing to abandon your principles to save your hide!"

I rolled my eyes. "This isn't just my hide we're looking after."

"Still!"

Narrowing my eyes at her, I asked, "You know Che Guevara was racist and hated gays, right?"

I swear to god, her face turned red after that. That seemed to piss her off so much that I was actually afraid she'd frenzy right then and there. It wasn't as if I was afraid of Damsel or anything - but I was afraid of what I didn't know about her. The Brujah don't have much in the way of disciplines, nothing all us Kindred don't have, but they were the best at them. Even if Damsel was just five foot three, I knew that she could probably hit like a freight car if she wanted to.

"Take that back!" She shrieked.

"Enough!" Kamala yelled, speaking firmly. "You two had best control yourselves. We are facing the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle, very powerful vampires who may or may not be Sabbat. I will not let any of you compromise this mission and embarrass me in front of the Prince."

Damsel opened her mouth to say something, but for once she didn't say a thing. That was a relief.

"Now, before we go to the homeless camp, would anyone like to grab anything before we go?" Kamala asked, looking back at the rest of the coterie.

I shook my head. Every weapon I needed was in my satchel-of-holding. Tanner Khan, who was completely unarmed, remained silent in the background. I didn't know him very well, but I'd heard of him. Apparently he was a nomad that came in from Texas, an independent member of the Gangrel clan. He had shoulder-length hair and the beginnings of a beard that never grew to fullness, probably because he became a vampire before he could. Like all Gangrel, I could see the imprint of his Beast on his visage. He had sharp claws growing from his fingers, and his face was shaped oddly, like the beginnings of a snout.

"I do." Damsel said, finally using her inside voice. "My place isn't far. Let's go." 

* * *

Damsel's place was in a smaller apartment complex near the Last Round. When we got there, she wasn't allowing anyone to enter her place except for me, funnily enough. Kamala wanted me to go into her apartment to make sure Damsel wouldn't do anything reckless. To be fair, she did seem like the type of person that would get a bunch of weapons and suddenly attack Kamala. When we walked into her apartment building, I saw a rather simple flat, a studio with one bed, a kitchenette, and no windows.

"It's probably nothing like what your master gives you." Damsel snidely remarked, glaring back at me before walking towards her closet. I followed.

"LaCroix isn't my master." I said to her. "I just...do you not understand nuance?"

"Usually when people claim their opinions are nuanced, they're just too much of cowards to take their ideas to their logical conclusion." Damsel said, opening her closet door. Inside was a variety of clothes, shoes, and dresses. I didn't even know Damsel wore dresses. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was just your average college girl. Which was weird, because she was supposed to be in her fifties right now.

"That's ridiculous." I said. "Why do you still have a problem with me? I've helped out the Anarchs several times over the past few months. Doesn't that prove I'm not Camarilla?"

Damsel walked into her closet and flicked the switch. Once the lights were on, she flicked yet another switch, and the walls began to turn. The closet full of clothes suddenly became one stocked with various weapons and explosives, enough to arm an entire militia.

"Ho-lee shit…" I muttered.

The redhead smirked and walked into the closet to pick up a few weapons. She looked at them as if she was browsing through clothes at a shopping mall.

"Listen." She said. "It doesn't matter how many favors you've done with us. You still hadn't picked a side, and you're either with us or against us."

"No, it doesn't work that way." I protested.

"Do you know what I hate more than Cammy scum? Fence-sitters. People that just stand by and watch the fascists take over Anarch communities and do nothing. People that just sit and watch as their freedoms are taken away."

"I'm just doing what I need to so that I can survive. I'm not sold on any of the political factions I've been shown so far."

Damsel turned to me. There was a fire in her eyes that told me to choose my words carefully.

"What's wrong with the Anarchs?" She asked.

That was a loaded question. But it was easy to answer, though whatever answer I gave her wouldn't make her very happy. The problem with the Anarchs is that I wasn't sure that their proposed social order would even work. They claim that everyone would follow the Masquerade because it would be in their own interest to do so, but then you had the Sabbat packs all over the place making a mockery of the Masquerade. Kindred were very territorial, very crafty creatures. There needed to be some kind of social hierarchy.

"I plead the fifth." I said.

Damsel rolled her eyes. "Typical. Can't even answer a simple fucking question."

She grabbed a bulletproof vest and slipped it on, strapping it to herself. Then she grabbed a machine gun and slung it on her shoulders using the leather strap. None of us really had to be concerned about being armed out in the open. The curfew made it so that kine weren't walking out in the street, and many of the cops would look the other way since the LAPD was in the Prince's pocket. Things had been prepared so that we were rid of the Brotherhood this very night. It was now or never.

After Damsel was geared up, she went from looking like a cutsey but loud college student to an armed radical that looked prepared to blow things up. She even wore a black bandanna over her face, which somehow made her look even more fierce than she already looked.

"Regardless of what my opinion is on the Anarchs, can you at least try to work with the rest of us?" I asked. "You have to admit this operation benefits the Anarchs as much as it benefits the Camarilla."

In response, Damsel threw a knife. Bewildered, I managed to dodge it before it caved my face in, and instead it hit the wall behind me. That was surprising. I knew Damsel was probably tougher than she looked, but with how well she threw knives, I was beginning to wonder what she did before she was Embraced. I could see the smirk in Damsel's eyes when I looked back at her, as if she got some playful satisfaction out of keeping me on my toes.

"I'll think about it." She told me. "Now let's get this shit show going." 

* * *

To say that Los Angeles had a homelessness problem was an understatement. Where other big cities had homeless people sleeping on the streets often, Los Angeles had entire colonies of homeless people, usually settled beneath underpasses or within parks. The Red Plague had probably hit the city's homeless harder than anyone else due to their general lack of protection. There were also so many of them that barely anyone noticed if they were picked off, which made them the ideal target for the serial killer vampire pack that was the Brotherhood.

When we arrived, we could see the place was depressing, even by the standards of homeless colonies. They were scattered and afraid, avoiding each other either because half of them were sick or, for all they knew, one of them could be the killer. I could smell their diseased blood in the air. It looks like Brother Kanker hit this community rather hard...but when I looked at them with Auspex, I didn't see any indication of any of them being a vampire.

"None of them are Kindred." I told my coterie.

"Nope." Kamala confirmed, looking around herself. "We'll have to ask around. See if they'd seen anything."

"We should probably split up." I suggested. "Groups of two. One of us does the questioning, the other keeps a lookout for Kanker. If we see him, one of us texts the other."

"That is a good idea." Kamala said. For a moment she sounded...impressed? "Okay. Damsel, you're going to go with Tanner. Algernon, you're with me."

"Fine." Damsel scoffed. "Tanner, let me do the talking. You hadn't said shit since we walked out."

Silently, Tanner nodded and we split. There was a slight awkward silence as Kamala and I exchanged looks. Her expression was unreadable, neutral. I couldn't tell if she liked or disliked me. She maintained an authoritative tone with me, as if lording her seniority - which was pretty common for any member of the Camarilla I'd met. However, there was a certain coldness to her that seemed personal. I didn't know what it was.

"Hey listen…" I began, speeding up my walk so that I could catch up with her stride. "I don't know what's going on, but I have the sense that maybe you have some kind of issue with me."

"Let's focus on the operation, please." She said coldly. "My personal feelings towards you are irrelevant."

And that was that. We began to ask around, but most of anyone we'd spoken to either didn't know anything or wouldn't tell us anything. I couldn't tell which. Eventually, I assumed it was due to Kamala's cold demeanor towards everyone, so I began to do the talking myself. We had just a little more luck that way, but still, nobody seemed to know anything. There was a hobo by a dumpster-bonfire that was looking at us all shifty-eyed. I approached him.

"H-Huh? Whaddya want?" He asked, his eyes widening now that I was closer.

"I need to know about this sickness that's been affecting you guys." I said.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Well, I'd feel a lot more like talkin' if you give me a few bucks, you know? How about a twenty to lubricate the old chords?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. Damn kine and their short-sightedness. Why couldn't he see the bigger picture here? Strong-arming him would do me no good. And while I could Dominate him, I'd noticed that it was bad for getting specific answers from people. Sure, I could make him tell me about what's been going on, but that's exactly what he would tell me, and that's all he would tell me. Sometimes I needed people lucid so that I could know what I didn't know, judging by their answers.

"Fine." I said, reaching into my wallet and pulling out a twenty. "Take the twenty bucks. Tell me or I'll start to get violent."

His eyes looked like they might pop out of his skull. "O-okay! I mean...I don't knows too much about nothin'. But I knows that Tin Can Bill's been tellin' some crazy story about how he got sick and all. Somethin' about a monster or some such…"

Bingo.

"Where's Tin Can Bill?" I asked.

"You can usually find him down in his alleyway, just across from that bar nearby." The homeless man said, pointing at a shitty dive bar across the street. The alleyway was filled with even more homeless.

"Thanks." I said.

I walked back to Kamala and told her what the homeless man told me. She nodded once.

"Why didn't you Dominate him?" She asked.

"Wanted the answers I needed, not the ones I wanted." I said. "Found that the Discipline is good for getting people to do things, but not for getting them to be honest."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I see. Let's go to meet this Tin Can Bill then."

Tin Can Bill was in the dark alleyway, digging through the trash as he began coughing a fit. When Kamala and I approached him, he almost jumped.

"Wh-Who's there?!" He asked. "Ol' Tin Can Bill can't see so well no more."

Kamala and I exchanged looks. He looked absolutely horrible. His skin was a sickly pale, and there were warts growing all over his skin. At first, I thought Brother Kanker might have embraced the homeless man, but then I caught a whiff of the man's diseased blood as I got close. With the way he was shaking like a leaf, he couldn't have had that much longer to live.

"Sir? We're police officers." I lied. "I'm officer Algernon Blake. We needed information on however it was you got sick."

"I-It was horrible, officer!" Tin Can Bill told us, his eyes widening even more. "It was...it was a monster. Had l-long teeth and...and these horrible, yellow eyes. He came out of the sewers nearby, just...just jumped out and bit me! I ain't been feelin' so good ever since."

I glanced at Kamala and she nodded. It seemed like we were thinking the same thing. It was either Brother Kanker or one of the progenies he'd been infecting the sewers with. According to Gary, the sewers of Downtown LA had pretty much been crawling with them. The Brotherhood member had clearly made a brood to spread his disease as quickly as possible, and it worked.

"Thank you for the information, sir." Kamala said. "Now…_sove_."

There was an invisible thrum of power that pulsed through the air, indicating she was casting a spell. I could hear Tin Can Bill's blood rush and then...nothing. His heart just stopped. He made choking sounds as he fell to his knees, then to the ground, dead. I raised an eyebrow at Kamala, and she shrugged.

"You killed him. You didn't have to do that." I said.

"He was at death's doorstep. He was going to die anyway." She said. "Better he dies now before he can spread his disease to the other kine."

I wanted to protest, but I couldn't find myself disagreeing with her. At any other point in my life, I'd be horrified at her randomly killing someone like that, but she was right at this point. Tin Can Bill, in the state he was in, was a danger to the herd. And we couldn't have him endangering the herd, that would just ruin our food supply. Instead of disagreeing, I sighed.

"We could've at least taken him to a hospital, Jesus Christ." I muttered, before walking deeper into the alleyway to find the manhole. 

* * *

I hated the sewers. Not only was the constant smell of excrement and dirty water hell on my vampiric senses, but I could always hear things, which made me paranoid. There were always the sounds of rats or people moving in the water. My rational mind knew that it was likely the Nosferatu, who generally didn't mean any harm, but the paranoid Beast within told me that they could potentially be hostiles. I never listened, of course, but hearing the monster gibber inside of my mind was always annoying.

When we went in, I could tell that Kamala was feeling it too. Maybe her Beast was telling her to lash out in a paranoia-fueled rage, because she seemed to be on edge. I envied her self-control. She obviously hadn't been able to feed on fine-quality blood since this whole plague thing started. It looked like she might be ready to jump at any moment. Maybe if I spoke to her, it would make things a little easier? I couldn't have her frenzy on the mission.

"You look thirsty. I have blood packs, you know. Clean." I said.

Kamala wrinkled her nose. "I'm tired of drinking that garbage. No more blood packs."

"What are you? A Ventrue? Nothing wrong with blood packs. Especially if you're on the edge."

"I am not on the edge." She growled. "And watch how you speak to your superiors, acolyte."

I shot her a look and pulled a blood pack out of my bag. It was mostly thawed at this point, but there were still frozen bits inside. Blood from blood packs didn't always provide the best nutritional value, but they were always good for holding over until a warm, living body was found.

"I may be outside of the Pyramid, but I still have a point." I said. "Blood pack or not?"

Kamala scowled at me and snatched the blood pack from my hand. She bit into the bag and drank the contents within, shuddering as she sucked it dry. After she was done, she threw the bag into the water and wiped her mouth with her hand, then licked her fingers. Christ, how thirsty was she? She shot me another glare, which indicated I was staring for too long, and we went down through the sewers.

"So, I had a question." I said as we walked. "About our clan."

"I'll answer within reason, neonate." She told me.

"Right. Well...about the origins of our clan…"

She stopped and shot me a sharp look. I was treading on thin ice here, I realized. If anything, this indicated that this was a question I should be asking.

"The other night, I did a mission for LaCroix. Picking up werewolf blood from a clinic in Santa Monica." I explained. "While I was there, I met a guy who said he was from the Order of Hermes, whatever that is. He said-"

"Don't believe what he says." Kamala cut me off. "The origins of our clan is no concern for one at your level. You should be concerned with how to get into the clan."

I frowned. "I know nothing about our clan. I don't even know what I'd be getting myself into. How am I supposed to know I want to get in if I don't know where our blood comes from?"

"Just like your Sire." She spat. "You ask too many questions. That is a dangerous path to take."

I raised an eyebrow. I had the feeling I was getting somewhere.

"My Sire asked too many questions?" I asked. "Is that one of the reasons she broke the Traditions?"

A bitter laugh came from Kamala. "You still insist on knowing things you should not know?"

"It's my Sire. Everyone keeps talking about her, but nobody knew her well enough to tell me anything significant. I just...I want to know, why me?"

Kamala's expression darkened. She looked away from me, as if to compose herself. Did I hit a nerve? Whatever it was, I had a feeling Kamala knew a bit more about Justine than the average person. Why was she being so secretive? It wasn't like I was asking anything about the Pyramid.

"Fine." She said, then she turned to me. Her expression was grim. "Your Sire...was a traitor to the Tremere. After diablerizing her Sire, she defected to the House Goratrix. She joined the Sabbat shortly before Siring you."


	25. Epidemic 5-3

**AN: **Sorry for the time it took to get this one out, guys. I had major writer's block for this one. It's also due to the fact that I'm working on a second project on another website, a web serial called Nightwatch that takes place in an original universe. Here's the link if you're interested: story/193440240-nightwatch

I think I'll make updates on this one once a week instead of daily so I don't get too overwhelmed. Plus we're about halfway through the in-game story in this fic, so there isn't too much to go through at this point. Thanks to everyone that's been reading and following! All of your reviews are very much appreciated.

* * *

"I'm sorry, what?" I demanded, my voice possibly a little too loud for where we were. "Justine was Sa-"

"Keep your voice down!" Kamala hissed, baring her teeth in frustration. "Yes, your Sire was Sabbat. Please do not broadcast it to the Kindred that may be occupying this tunnel."

"But she...she didn't look like Sabbat." I said. The Sabbat I'd seen were only vaguely humanoid in form, with unnaturally long, spindly arms and sharp claws. I assumed they were all like that, but if what Kamala was saying was true, then that was a bad assumption.

Kamala scoffed. "Sabbat doesn't have a look, neonate. The shovelheads that are often thrown at you are merely cannon fodder. Internally, they can look just like you and I."

That made sense. But still, something wasn't right here. Something was off. Justine had told me not to trust the Camarilla, sure, but she also told me not to trust the Sabbat. If she was aligned with them, why would she tell me that? Yet again, I felt like a pawn. I had before, but at least I felt like I knew the game, even if I didn't know exactly who's pawn I was. Now? I didn't know the game at all. Just what was Justine trying to tell me?

"I don't understand." I said. "Strauss said she was an exemplary member of the Tremere. Why would she join the Sabbat?"

I saw Kamala's expression change, as if she was weighing and carefully analyzing the words she was going to say next. I got a small, vindictive sort of satisfaction out of the fact that she had to walk on eggshells around me. Even if it wasn't because of me, it was nice seeing that my questions were knocking her off of her balance, so to speak.

"She'd gotten interested in...things she shouldn't have been interested in." Kamala said. "Forbidden magics. False lores that the Tremere had long debunked. Ancient texts. She'd become obsessed with things she shouldn't have. Things such as Golconda."

Frowning, I asked, "What's Golconda?"

"Didn't I tell you that your Sire became obsessed with things she shouldn't have?!" Kamala hissed, irritation flicking over her features. "Are you really going to follow her example?"

"I'm just asking!" I protested. "I don't understand why she'd join the Sabbat! Especially when I keep getting told how great of a member of the Camarilla she was!"

Kamala's lips pressed into a thin line. "Listen, you aren't even supposed to know any of this. Just know that-"

Before Kamala could finish, all of the lights in the sewer tunnel suddenly turned off. There was a brief period of silence as we looked out into the darkness. Quickly, we both activated Auspex so that we could see in the dark, and then it became very apparent that we weren't alone. Ahead, I saw about a dozen Kindred, all Nosferatu. Judging by their clothes, I figured they were probably Embraced homeless, some of whom were in the middle of their monstrous clan transformations, some of whom were fully transformed. I saw rows of deformed skulls, jagged teeth, dripping claws, and glowing eyes. We were outnumbered.

"_Fryse!_" Kamala called out. I could feel the silent thrum of her will pulsing out into reality. The sewer water began to churn and warp, then it rushed past us, turning into a wave the size of a school bus. The wave crashed into the group of Nosferatu, then I heard a sharp crackle as the wave immediately froze over, encasing the dozen or so in a thick sheet of ice.

Some of them broke out, of course. I could tell they were under the influence of the Beast, judging by their jerky, inhuman movements. I quickly took my axe out of my satchel and stepped forward, swinging the silver blade at one right before he made contact with Kamala, beheading him and turning him into ash right then and there. Another lunged at me, but I bought my axe around, cleaving the vampire right through his midsection and sending him flying. More and more broke out of the sheet of ice, and some came from behind us. I lifted my arm, channeling my will into my axe.

"_Incircum!_" I called out.

Throwing my axe, it was set alight with a blue-white aura. It sliced right through one of the Nosferatu attacking us, then began to curve in mid air, circling us three times and slicing through all of the Nosferatu in its path. This forced a couple of them to fall back. My axe flew back into my hand, and I followed up by slamming my axe into the ground, channeling my power into the water, shouting, "_Conlisus!_"

Lightning went through my axe into the water, spreading through quickly and shocking the majority of the Nosferatu surrounding us. I willed the lightning to not touch Kamala and I, which created a circle around us in the water that the lightning wouldn't touch. I saw several of the Nosferatu turn into ash and several more back away. I kept the current running through the water until they were out of sight. Once I was sure we were both safe, I pulled my axe out of the water, gripping it cautiously in case any surprises were incoming.

"Good work, neonate." Kamala said. She sounded almost...impressed? "We'll have to be a little more cautious going forward. It seems the sewers are crawling with Brother Kanker's progeny."

As we went deeper into the sewers, I could tell we were getting close to something. The walls were covered in a thick grime that collected into nests that slimy rats crawled in and out of. More and more Nosferatu would pour out from the shadows and flood at us, but Kamala and I would take them down with relative ease. Even though this is the most action I'd gotten in months, it seemed I was taking to mowing other vampires down easily.

On the other side of the tunnel we were walking through, I heard flashing lights and saw gunfire. Ahead, Damsel was firing an automatic rifle into the darkness, with what appeared to be a giant panther right near him - Tanner, I presumed. An entire horde of Nosferatu, each under frenzy, were running after them and Damsel was just mowing them down. Kamala and I took off in a sprint and, once I was close enough, I made a full swing into one of the shovelheads, turning him into ash. Damsel was moving back at unnatural speeds, reloading so quickly that she was a blur. It was a split second before she was ready to open fire again.

"Out of the fucking way!" She barked. I complied quickly, throwing myself and Kamala to the side as Damsel sprayed-and-prayed the crowd of ten or fifteen fledgeling Nosferatu that were after us. When she had to reload again, there was a vampire that lunged at us from the massive cloud of ash that came as a result of so many dying so fast, but Tanner caught him in midair, his unnaturally sharp teeth and claws digging into the vampiric flesh like butter, killing him immediately.

"What. The. Fuck?!" Damsel growled, slinging her AK onto her shoulder. "You fuckers were supposed to text us when you got a lead! The only reason we're down here is because Tanner caught your scent!"

I chuckled awkwardly. "It um...slipped my mind?"

"It 'slipped your mind'?" Damsel asked, incredulous. "Next time those fucking shovelheads crawl out of their rat holes, it's going to 'slip my mind' not to shoot your ass too!"

"Enough." Kamala ordered. "Tanner, can you get Brother Kanker's scent?"

Tanner morphed back into his humanoid form which, now that I thought about it, was looking less and less "humanoid". He crouched down to the ground, not seeming to mind the dirty water to his feet. He looked up and sniffed the air, then looked around for a bit. Once it seemed he was satisfied with just sniffing the air, he stood up and nodded.

"Just down the way over there." He said. With how his voice sounded, I understood why he didn't speak much. It was somewhere between a low, resonating purr and a growl. Definitely inhuman. "He turned the tunnels into his nest. His progeny are crawling all over the place, hidden in the darkness."

Kamala sighed deeply. "Of course, it can never be simple, can it?"

"Should we call backup?" I asked.

Both Damsel and Kamala glared at me. I'd gotten the sense that I said something very wrong. Maybe I underestimated both of their prides. It would make sense that neither of them would want to accept outside help, perhaps for different but similar reasons.

"Fine." I mumbled. "Just wanted to help."

"Onward then?" Tanner asked Kamala.

She looked down through the tunnel. In the distance, a light could be seen, perhaps a part of the waterway where the light wasn't cut off. At the very least, would indicate we're moving in the right direction.

"Mhm. Onward." Kamala said.

* * *

I had severely underestimated just how many Nosferatu can fit in a small space. The sewers were nowhere near spacious enough for half of these people to be here, I was convinced, yet here they were, attacking us in the dozens. We managed to mow them down fairly easily since they were just shovelheads with a couple of nights worth of experience and probably no fucking idea what they were or what was going on. In a way, I felt sorry for them. I didn't feel sorry enough for them that I wasn't going to cut them down, however.

"_Fulmen!_" I called out as I threw my axe. As if charged with electricity, tendrils of pure energy burst from the weapon as it flew down the tunnel, shocking many of the vampires just enough to turn them into ash. I recalled the axe back to my hand and swung my axe right at a wolf that one of the Nosferatu shovelheads summoned, keeping it from lunging at Damsel. We were all back-to-back. Damsel was, at this point, more or less out of ammunition, which forced her to fall back on her combat knife.

"_Knuse!_" Kamala roared, and an arctic wind blew through the entire tunnel with sharp shards of ice carried with it. It blew forward quick enough to throw the shards straight through some of the shovelheads, killing them instantly. Others were flash-frozen and then shattered by the winds tossing them into a wall. With Kamala's spell, we were clear in the tunnel. We were also low on blood. I could feel the Beast's hunger bubbling within me.

Distributing some of my blood packs to each of them, we all stopped for a drink. Those were the last of my blood packs, which meant that I would have to cool it on the thaumaturgy for the night. That wasn't a good start, especially since feeding off of anyone in the streets could end up pretty disastrous. While the blood plague wasn't fatal to Kindred, it could be carried to them, and the only known cure at this point was death. I thought offhandedly that LaCroix would just love for me to get infected, since he seemed to be itching for an excuse to kill me these nights.

We advanced onward through the sewer tunnels, cutting down more legions of Brother Kanker's sewer rats. With how many he'd embraced, it was a wonder that I didn't see anything about the homeless in town missing. Was the city really that apathetic?

We eventually came upon a room that looked like a maintenance shaft. The sewer water was relatively clean and ankle-deep, with five pillars on either side of us moving all the way to the end of the room. While the water was clean, the room itself wasn't. My nose was assaulted by the smell of death and decay. The walls were painted with blood and waste, like some kind of twisted art gallery. Bodies were torn in half and strung all over the place, hung from the pillars like Christmas decorations. A garbage fire was lit, and some poor bastard was crucified on the graffitied wall behind it. Tanner, Kamala, Damsel, and I moved deeper into the room. Once we were a few feet from the crucified homeless man, Brother Kanker appeared out of thin air.

He was hideous, even by Nosferatu standards. His skin was gray and abnormally pulpy, as if it were ripped off of his skeleton, put in a blender, and grafted back onto him. It was covered in scars, tumors, and boils that were pulsating and leaking puss. His skull was misshapen, more like a goblin's than a human's, and his eyes were a deep, piss yellow. His mouth was a half open maw because his teeth were too long for him to fully close them. His hands weren't hands, but long, bony talons dripping with blood.

"You lot found your way down here, did you?" Brother Kanker asked, his tone dripping with malice. "Following the smell of entrails and rotting flesh? Looking for a free meal, little bloodsucker? There's meat galore in my kingdom."

"This is fucked up." Damsel hissed. "What the fuck are you?!"

"I am Brother Kanker...High Lord of the diseased halls of the dead. Look around you! The blood, the bloated bodies, the maggot-ridden mortal shells… These are signs, the coming of a new age!" The vampire replied, his tone absolutely pregnant with delusion.

"...Right." I said. "Why are you feeding on the homeless?"

"They are weak, sick, hopeless. I bring them new purpose." Brother Kanker said. "They are vessels of darkness, carrying the diseased truth in their veins."

That seemed to send Damsel into a rage. Before Kamala or I could stop her, she blurred forward, baring her teeth like a frenzied cheetah, her eyes wide with anger. She lunged at Brother Kanker and, to my amazement, Brother Kanker caught her without the slightest bit of trouble, his clawed hand wrapping around her throat. He lifted her off of the ground with minimal effort, the electrical aura that signified Potence forming around him, tendrils of energy whipping off of his body.

"Y-You sick fuck!" Damsel choked. "You only feed on the helpless to j-justify your s-sociopathic urges!"

Brother Kanker threw her like a ragdoll. Like a speeding bullet, Damsel came flying towards us. Kamala did a strange hand gesture as if she were catching a softball, running forward and shouting, "_Langsom!_"

Damsel's velocity slowed, but she didn't stop. I caught her before she hit the ground, carrying her bridal style. She looked up at me for a split second before her features contorted in anger again.

"L-Let go of me!" She shrieked, and I did just that, dropping her. She plopped right down into the water.

"Asshole." She grunted.

"We are all monsters, fellow Cainites." Brother Kanker continued, spreading his arms as if giving a sermon. "We are all obligated to accept the nature and hungers of the Beast...and sate them accordingly."

"We do accept them." I said. "We live with it night to night, just like you do. Difference between us and you is that we don't let it rule us!"

The Nosferatu sneered, lowering his head and glaring at us in a gaze that looked absolutely feral.

"Is that your final answer?" He asked.

"This was never a dialogue." Kamala said, clenching her fists. "This is your final night, rat."

Brother Kanker burst out laughing, leaning back slightly. He was deluded, absolutely insane. Whatever was left of his humanity was clearly long gone. Finally, he stopped laughing, and he pulled out a military knife from his belt strap.

"Come, then!" He shouted. "Join the disciples who have gathered here, floating in their own putrescence! I will show you the mysteries of our Brotherhood as I feast on your flesh!"

Then, like a pin dropping in a minefield, the entire room erupted into chaos. The lights went dark, and for a second I thought he was pulling out something like Obtenebration. The truth was much scarier. Swarms of thousands of rats burst forth from the ground, locusts and wasps came from the vents, covering the minimal light in the room. Pure pestilence flooded into the area, glowing eyes, sharp fangs, and diseased claws all coming towards us, all under the command of Brother Kanker.


	26. Epidemic 5-4

**A/N:** I cannot tell you guys how sorry I am about how long it took me to publish this! Really. I was legitimately writing this bit by bit. It wasn't writer's block or anything, it is just I was working on other projects. But I'm back! I'm going to try to get writing this on some kind of schedule again. I do plan on having this entire fanfiction (and the epilogue one shot) done before Bloodlines 2 comes out, so I have plenty of time.

Thanks for reading! Any feedback is always appreciated. 

* * *

"_Vegg!"_ Kamala shouted.

The water between us and the swarm surged upwards like a waterfall in reverse. It blocked the rats and locusts but they began to collect together, towering in one spot until they formed a wall of their own. I saw Kamala strain as she tried her best to fortify the wall, but I knew she wouldn't be able to hold it for long. I channeled my will into my axe.

"_Fulmen!"_ I roared, throwing the axe into the wall of water that was a foot thick at this point. The axe was engulfed with electricity as it flew into the water. Sparks flew and there was a bright flash of light once the axe electrified the water, shocking the first layer of pests that had gathered to overtake the wall.

I recalled my axe and then there was...nothing. Just when I was beginning to relax, Brother Kanker shot right through the wall of water like a bullet, his body engulfed in the electric blue aura of Potence. The locusts, wasps, and beetles flew through the hole he created in the wall and began to engulf him almost like a second armor. Damsel threw a knife with deadly precision, and it would've pierced his throat if he hadn't knocked it aside with his own combat knife. I stepped him and met him in midair, slashing his midsection with my axe with all of my strength. There was a loud _clang_ sound as it hit his midsection, but it was like hitting a brick wall. It knocked him down but as soon as he hit the floor, the wasps began to swarm me.

I was never afraid of bugs. As a kid, I'd play with spiders and poke wasp nests for fun. But I can't deny that there is something terrifying about a swarm of killing machines gathering on you, guided by an intelligence that is possibly centuries old. They crawled all over my skin and immediately triggered my panic response. If I were a lesser person, I might've frenzied right then and there. I closed my arms and mouth tightly to keep them from getting inside of me. It was a relief that I didn't have to breathe.  
"_Blåse_!" I heard Kamala call out. A gust of wind strong enough to roll me over to my stomach blew, sending the wasps flying off of me. As soon as I got up, Brother Kanker pounced. Damsel intercepted, launching him with a Potence-charged kick. He went flying into a concrete pillar, tearing a chunk out of the rock and bouncing off of it violently. Despite the hard hit he took, he got right back up. There wasn't a single scratch on his body.

His rats poured through the hole he created in Kamala's water wall, which weakened as soon as she cast another spell. Like a flood of pure filth, the pests began to pool around us, crawling up our legs. Damsel began shooting at the rats as best she could. Kamala and I manipulated the blood from the wounds the rats created, crystallizing it and turning it into spikes that impaled several of the pests. It didn't take care of the wasps and locusts, but at least it enabled us to move.  
I couldn't open my mouth or else the insects would get inside, and the prospect of being torn apart from the inside didn't appeal to me. Using Auspex, I projected a telepathic message to Kamala.

"_Get as much water into the air as you can!"_ I thought to her. "_I have an idea."  
_  
Kamala nodded, confirming that she'd heard me loud and clear. I saw her blur and appear near the entrance of the room, away from the swarms. A few wasps still covered her, but she seemed to be ignoring them well enough. She dropped onto one knee and pressed her hands into the water. I could feel the silent stir of power in the air gather around her, swirling and becoming more intense.

"_Fordampe!"_ She said, and I could _feel_ her voice more than I could hear it. The water beneath us suddenly turned red hot, boiling as if the ground beneath it had turned into magma. It violently exploded, erupting the entire room into more chaos than it had already become. All of the water rapidly turned into steam so dense that I couldn't see further than two feet ahead of myself, even with Auspex. Now that everything had been set up, it was my turn to move.

I opened my arms as if I were getting crucified, commanding my blood and my power to gather to my extremities. Through my blood, I gathered my will. So much power had gathered that I could taste copper on my tongue. The air smelled of ozone. Sparks formed at the edge of my fingers.

"Everyone, protect yourself!" I yelled, clenching my fists. I'd gathered enough power, now I just had to make it happen.

"_Concursu ominum!"  
_  
More lightning than I've ever called before began to jet forward from my being as thick, almost solid tendrils. The energy electrified the mist, and all that could be heard was the ugly squealing of rats as they either exploded or were vaporized entirely. My energy covered the entire room quickly, overloading the overhead lights and making them burst. The steam was now cleared, and all that remained was the light from the garbage fire at the far end of the room. All of the pests were dead, and their corpses what was left of the water. It was now cloudy with black and red, and the oh-so pleasant smell of rotting flesh now had burning hair and cooked rat to add with it.

I was, for the most part, completely spent. I'd had just enough blood to keep the Beast from piloting me, and using another discipline was laughable at this point. There was no sign of Brother Kanker that I could see, but considering the Nosferatu's talent for not being seen, that wasn't saying much. Lifting my axe, I remained on guard. The water was gone from the room due to Kamala's spell, so it wasn't as if we'd hear him moving around. I tried my best to listen, but I knew that Brother Kanker could probably turn off any sounds he'd made as well. This guy was at least a New Elder, after all.

"You've destroyed my swarm...rather versatile, the Tremere are…" The Nosferatu said, his voice disembodied, coming from no specific direction that I could tell. "Unfortunately, it will not be enough."

Just a few feet away from me, Tanner's head was cut clean off of his head. I moved away as quickly as I could, throwing my axe in Tanner's direction. It hit nothing but dust as he died, leaving behind nothing but bones. Right as I moved back, a clawed hand grabbed my shoulder, completely taking control of my momentum with its monstrous strength. Brother Kanker manifested and lifted me above his head, slamming me down to the ground. I saw a blur in the corner of my eye as Damsel attempted to lunge, but the Nosferatu was ready. He grabbed her by the throat mid-jump, squeezing hard enough that I heard a nauseating crack.

"This has been rather amusing." Brother Kanker said. "But now, it is time for me to end this."

Reaching my hand out, I attempted to recall my axe but Kanker stomped on my foot, snapping my wrist. I yelped, white hot pain surged through my entire body and for a second, I wished I was dead - _really_ dead. At the far end of the room, Kamala seemed to be biding her time, waiting for the best time to strike. There probably wouldn't be a best time at all, not until he'd killed both Damsel and I; and I had the lingering feeling that she'd have no problem sacrificing us both.

Man, fuck the Camarilla.

That left me. Tanner was dead, Damsel couldn't do shit, clearly. Even though it's four of us against one vampire, we were outmatched from the start. I looked at Kanker with the last remaining bit of Auspex I still had activated. Slowly, I could see his aura fading. He was getting thirsty. Now that I thought about it, he used his disciplines more than any of us had. There was no way he wasn't struggling himself. In my aura sight, he was lit up like Downtown LA on christmas night, but it was fading. His fortitude and potence were fading. Maybe Kamala could see it too. Maybe that's why she was biding time. I needed to keep him distracted.

"Who put you up to this?" I asked, doing my best to ignore the pain from my snapped wrist.

The question seemed to pique Brother Kanker's interest. It seemed that he held something in common with all zealots: he really liked talking, especially about himself.

"The Beast, child." He hissed darkly. "The Beast guides all of our actions. Tells us who to kill. Who to feed from. Who to lie to, to trick, to fuck. It encompasses us, and only a fool wouldn't listen to it."

If Brother Kanker were a battery, he'd be about a quarter full. I just needed to get him talking more, though at this point I couldn't tell if his fading aura was my Auspex deactivating or his disciplines deactivating.

"Yeah, yeah. I get that. Unleash the darkness within and whatever." I muttered. "But I don't get it. You guys can't be the head guys in the Sabbat. I mean, you never see the Prince coming out and doing the sect's dirty work, and his Sire? Well, I don't even know their name. I don't even know where they _are._ And you guys, so-called lords of the damned are really doing the work of the Sabbat? Kamala over there told me you guys were well-organized."

That made him pause. For a second, I thought he was going to attack me. His expression was difficult to read; he seemed angry, but his deformed face always looked angry.  
"You're quite insolent for someone so young." He growled. "I'd have imagined you'd learned how to speak to your betters at this point. But I suppose not. Amusing, because according to the Archbishop, your Sire was just as insolent."

"Wait," I said. "You know about Justine?"

Brother Kanker only gave me a smirk. His aura was about as bright as embers in a fireplace now. It was time to attack. I barely heard Kamala's footsteps as she crossed several feet, pulling out a sword from seemingly nowhere. This time, Brother Kanker was unable to move quickly enough as the sword sliced through his forearm like butter. I heard him scream as he stumbled back, taking the pressure off of my broken wrist. Ignoring the pain and nausea from moving, I quickly took my sawed-off shotgun out of my bag and got up. Brother Kanker stumbled into one of the concrete pillars, narrowly dodging another swing by Kamala. The swing sliced into the foundation and she had to take a moment to try and get it out.

I tried to get as close to Brother Kanker as possible, like point blank. Aiming at his face, I pressed my finger to the trigger.

"So long-" The gun fired off and splattered Brother Kanker's brains all over the floor before I could get a clever line off. Damn it. I really need to time that better. The Nosferatu's body turned into ash and didn't leave behind a skeleton for some strange reason. Odd. I'll have to look into that later.

"Jesus fucking Christ…" Damsel uttered, her voice raspy because her windpipe was crushed. "I need a fucking drink. Let's get out of here."

I was about to agree before my phone vibrated. I held up a finger as if to say 'one second' and answered.

"A-Al, you gotta help us!" The voice on the other side pleaded. It was Copper.

"What?" I asked. There was no way they could be in trouble already. I checked on them just last week! "What's going on?"

"Th-The Anarchs are here!" He said. "They're t-trying to catch some old Gangrel vampire, says he's Sabbat! They've taken the others by force! They're planning on using them as bait!"

I was so pissed off that I almost frenzied right then and there. Why couldn't they catch a fucking break? Because of a few superstitious vampires? No, I promised E that I would look after them. Not a single one of them was going to suffer final death, not under _my_ watch.

"I'll be right there." I said. "Gimme twenty minutes."

"Hurry!" Copper said.

I hung up.

"Who was that?" Damsel asked.

"A friend in Santa Monica." I explained, walking to the exit. "A bunch of Anarchs kidnapped his people on the beach. They're using him as bait to get the Gangrel that's part of the Brotherhood."

"And where are you going?" Kamala demanded.

I stopped and turned to her. "I'm going to rescue them, of course."

"Are you _insane?_" Damsel hissed. "All three of us are thirsty. I can see it in your eyes. I get looking out for your friends and all, but you aren't in any condition to fight another vampire. Especially not with your broken hand."

She was right, and I hated it. I hated it when Damsel _specifically_ was right, and I also hated that I wasn't in any condition to fight for the thin-bloods. It would be a lot wiser to stay back, recover and let the Anarchs take care of it. They wouldn't just kill thin-bloods for no reason, right? That kind of shit seemed to be against everything the Anarchs stood for.

Nah, fuck that.

"We can get a drink on the way." I said. "I'm going."

"You aren't going anywhere!" Kamala said, raising her voice. "We have to report back to the Prince."

I closed the distance between her and I and got into her face. In hindsight, maybe this was too much. Maybe I was giving into the beast, but I needed her to understand.

"I. Am. _Going."_ I growled. "You and Damsel can come if you want. But don't think for a second that you're my superior. My Sire was my superior, and she's dead."

Kamala looked like she was going to lash out, but she visibly took a moment to gather herself. I could tell that it was a struggle. Thankfully, she had enough self-control to realize that lashing out at a neonate like that - one part of her clan and in front of an _Anarch_ no less - would look very bad. The Tremere were all about appearances, after all.

"Fine." She said. "But if we are going to help, we will be taking down the Gangrel ourselves. It is better to go to the Prince with two members of the Brotherhood dead than one."

We all left the sewers and went back into the empty streets of LA. I thought our job was over after killing Brother Kanker. It turns out, the night was just beginning.


	27. Epidemic 5-5

**A/N: **Two chapters in one day?! Yep. I'm trying to upload more, so I'll be pumping out these chapters faster to make up for lost time.

So about this chapter: I kinda wanted to highlight how strong Algernon is becoming as a vampire, and how it's changing him. His transformation has been pretty slow and, I think, subtle up until now, and I wanted to show where it's bringing him. I hope you guys enjoy!

As always, reviews and feedback is appreciated!

* * *

On our way to Santa Monica, we picked up a few snacks, tourists that apparently didn't get the 'streets are closed' memo. Hitch hikers. God, it was so difficult to not drain them until they lay motionless on the side of the road. My beast was screaming at me to kill, so I took a moment to dial it back. I'd be no use to the thin-bloods if I frenzied, and I definitely couldn't fight what was potentially a New Elder with my beast piloting my body.

We got into Kamala's Mustang (of _course_ she has a Mustang) and began driving. The car was silent. I was pissed, Kamala was pissed, and Damsel was pissed - though that isn't unusual for the latter. I stared out of the window and thought of every way I'd like to bring those Anarch punks to final death. Maybe I'd make their blood boil. I hadn't tried that spell out yet.

"Why are we even going to Santa Monica anyway?" Damsel asked, breaking the silence as always. "You said your friends are in danger, but that doesn't explain shit."

"He means the thin-bloods." Kamala said. "The Anarchs had rounded them up and they're planning on using them as bait to get Wulf."

"Stay out of my head." I hissed.

"Who gives a shit about a bunch of thin-bloods?" Damsel asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong: that's kinda fucked up. But the less thin-bloods, the better, right?"

"Damsel?" I asked sweetly.

"What?"

"Shut the fuck up."

She opened her mouth to say something then closed it.

"Look, whether you like it or not, Damsel has a point." Kamala said, her tone neutral. "Sticking your neck out like this for thin-bloods is not only irrational, it doesn't look good."

"Fuck appearances." I snapped. "They didn't do anything!"

"We are _not_ human, neonate. Your empathy should've left the moment your heart stopped beating."

I stayed silent. She had a point. I hadn't felt anything that I could genuinely be called empathy since...well, since I was embraced. So why was I sticking my neck out for the thin-bloods? Was it pride? I told E I would look out for them, so damn it, that's what I had to do. Maybe it had nothing to do with me feeling bad about them. I know it sounds awful, but as long as I was doing what E intended me to do, what was the harm? Besides, it's what I would've done if I were still alive. And I knew for a fact that I had to hold onto that part of me.

"Besides, _thin-bloods?_" Kamala continued. "Are you serious? Do you have any idea what they are?"

"People that were dealt a bad hand." I said matter-of-factly. "They saved my ass a while back. They're good people. Much better than the other assholes I've met these last few nights."

She huffed, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

"You are absolutely mad." She muttered. "Just like your Sire."

"Can you stop doing that?" I snapped again. "Comparing me to my Sire? She's fucking dead, alright? Let her be dead. I'm me, and Justine was Justine."

The car was silent once again. I was in no mood to deal with Damsel _or _Kamala tonight. All I wanted to do was to return to my haven, maybe take a drink from Heather and maybe read through Justine's grimoire before sleeping until the next sunset. But instead, here I was, dealing with a problem that frankly wasn't even mine. I wasn't Camarilla or Anarch. Why was I still following their damn orders?

As we approached Santa Monica, I could see a group of three cars doing donuts near the dirt road. I turned on Auspex and saw that vampires were driving them. There wasn't anyone I could recognize exactly, just a few Anarchs I'd seen at the Last Round followed by three very annoyed Ventrue. They seemed to think this was a fucking party. Atop their cars were Rosa and Julius tied down in thick layers of bungee cord screaming bloody murder.

"There they are." I urged Kamala. "We have to stop them."

"Why?" She asked. "Look at them. They're fine. Mission accomplished. Let's return to LA."

Again: _fuck_ the Camarilla.

I grabbed the steering wheel before Kamala could turn it. To my surprise, I was stronger than her. _Much_ stronger.

"We're rescuing them." I said firmly.

"Are you mad?!" Kamala asked, incredulous.

"Just fuck already." Damsel groaned.

I ignored her. "Get me closer to those cars."

Kamala sighed. "Fine. Let go of the wheel first."

I did just that. Kamala drove closer to the cars and, much to my annoyance, they took off. They probably thought we were cops or something, which is odd because I'd never seen cops drive a Mustang before. They drove away at high speeds like this was a street race. Kamala flashed me an annoyed look and drove after them. Needless to say, this was simple math: they had normal sedans, Kamala had a sports car. She gained up on them fairly quickly. I reached into my bag and took out an AR-15, rolling down the window.

"What are you doing?!" Kamala hissed.

"I'm shooting their tires!" I yelled over the hiss of the wind.

"Close the window! This isn't a movie! It doesn't work like that!"

"Shut up and keep the car steady!"

"This is awesome!" Damsel pitched in.

Kamala began to speed forward in a straight line and I leaned out of the window, aiming as best as I could. She was right; this was nothing like the movies. Doing something as precise as shooting out a car's tires is nearly impossible, especially when you're in a moving car and the car you're trying to blow the tires off of is _also_ moving. It's impossible...for a human.

I activated Celerity and it's as if time slowed around me. Aiming at the tires of the two cars in front of us was child's play now. I discharged two shots: one at the front-left wheel, and one at the hind-left wheel. The bullets swam slowly through the air from my perspective, piercing through both tires and taking the car out of commission. I did the same thing to both of the tires of the other car and achieved the same result, making them both pull over to the side of the road. Kamala drove forward a few feet and power-turned around. Grabbing the top of the door was all I could do to prevent whiplash.

All three of us got out of Kamala's car. I stormed over to the disgruntled Anarchs that had their fun ruined, followed by their three or five Camarilla babysitters. They were all very young, either Brujah, Toreador, or Ventrue. It was likely that they'd all been vampires longer than I had, but I felt like I was quite a few steps above these guys.

"What the fuck do you guys think you're doing?!" I demanded.

A redheaded Toreador gave me a haughty look. "What do you mean, dude? We're hunting for Wulf. We got bait."

He chuckled as he pointed his thumb at Rosa and Julius. They weren't screaming anymore, but they looked terrified.

"No." I said, my tone final. "You aren't using them as bait. Find someone else."

"Why do you care so much, man?" One of the Anarchs - a Gangrel - asked. "They're just thin blo-"

I held out my hand and focused on his blood. It's funny, I expected it to be harder, but channeling my fury and will into his vitae came naturally to me. In seconds, I could feel the heat coming off of him. The vampires close to him began eyeing him warily as his skin began to blister. He released a high pitched scream as he floated up into the air. The vampires ran away a few feet, managing to get out of the way before he exploded into steaming, bloody bits. The blood splattered everywhere: all over their cars, Rosa, Julius, Damsel, and myself. Kamala was one of the vampires that got away, but only so her clothes didn't get covered.

"Algernon!" She hissed.

"H-Holy shit…" The Toreador gasped. "Y-You blew Sammy up!"

"And I'll do it again," I snarled, "If _one_ of you talk about them being thin-bloods again. Cut them down."

The other team of vampires were frozen, staring at me with terrified expressions. It was as if their Sire had just awakened from torpor and was _very_ angry.

"Now!" I snapped.

That got them working. Quickly, they cut Rosa and Julius down from their bonds atop their cars. Both of them got down and ran to me, hiding behind me. One of the girls in the other team - a Ventrue by the name of Jasmine - sneered at me. I sneered right back at her.

"What now?" She challenged. "We have no way of luring Wulf now. You compromised the mission. And I wonder what the Prince will think about you saving a couple of thin-bloods."

Her grin was wicked. I could see how her and LaCroix shared the same clan. They both had that uptight air about them, as if they were made to make demands instead of doing the dirty work. She must've hated being on an actual _mission_, god forbid. I was going to answer, but I noticed the sound of motorcycles approaching. Bright lights came towards us and pulled over on the side of the road. Another coterie approached us, and this time they were thankfully familiar faces.

"Hey there, kiddos." Jack said, his grin wide as ever as if he didn't even sense the tension in the air. It was likely he did, he just didn't give a fuck. "Havin' fun?"

Behind him on their own bikes were Skelter and Jenna Cross. The three of them looked a little roughed up, as if they'd just gotten into a fight. Judging by the direction they were coming from, they must've just exited Santa Monica.

"Jack!" Damsel called out. "The hell are ya doin' here, old man?"

"Just comin' back from dusting Peabody." He answered. "Figured we might do the rounds on this place, see if we can catch Wulf."

"That's what we were doing!" The Toreador said.

"Riight." Jack said. "Al, why do you look so pissed? Someone piss in your drink, kiddo?"

I crossed my arms. "These guys were fucking with people under my protection."

Jack laughed his usual mirthful laugh. "Explains the blood stain in the dirt. What happened?"

"They were just thin-bloods, man!" The Toreador said defensively.

"So the fuck what?" Jack asked. "Jenna here's a thin-blood, and she's my childe. You got a problem with Jenna?"

The Toreador went silent.

"We're all damned here, and that's that." Jack continued. "When we finally kick it and meet the Devil at the last circle of Hell, you're for shit sure the last sin he'll be listing off on any o' us is how thick our blood is. Stop it with this thin-blood shit. It pisses me off."

"Y-Yeah…" The Toreador said. "Guess you got a point. Uh...sorry, man."

"Whatever." I said. "Stay away from them. Got it? If you don't, I'll know."

And that was that. He raised his arm in a surrendering gesture, backing off.

"Jack, your speech was nice and all, but what now?" Jasmine asked. "We still need to catch Wulf."

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but I heard Jenna sniffing the air.

"Smell that?" She asked.

Before anyone could answer, I saw a massive shadow pass between us. In an instant, both Julius and the Toreador's heads were sliced completely off, their bodies turning to dust immediately. The figure landed hard on the ground, rolling and getting on all fours. It looked...barely human. It was furry, with the upper body of a gorilla and the lower body of some other animal, possibly a kangaroo. It had the tail of a scorpion and talons for hands, with each claw being the size of a bowie knife. Its feline head gazed up at us, yellow eyes piercing through the darkness. When it hissed and I saw its fangs I realized that it, somehow, was a fucking vampire.

"Holy fuck…" I whispered.

Wulf, the Gangrel of the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle stood and easily reached eight feet. He towered over all of us, even Skelter.

"_Run."_ He growled.

And all of us - save for Jack and Skelter - ran for our fucking lives.


	28. Epidemic 5-6

**A/N: **Not much to say about this chapter. But! Moving things along here, who's perspective do you want the new interlude chapter to be from? I was thinking Ming Xao, but I really want you guys' input. 

* * *

Being a predator was thrilling. The hunt, the chase, and the reward were all so satisfying in a deep, primal level. Skelter and I once had a conversation about the older vampires, the Antediluvians, and how the curse running through our veins is thousands of years old. Regardless of what clan or generation we were, we all hunted the same, we were all haunted by the beast the same, and we all killed the same. Our urges were, according to him, two thousand years old, and the result of a curse from God Himself.

When we broke out into a sprint, I could hear gunshots echo behind me. Jack and Skelter were putting up a fight. Then, suddenly, there was silence. No more sounds of struggle. I didn't dare look back. I kept my eyes forward, focused on the open road ahead. In the distance, I could see the lights of Santa Monica. Some part of me - probably what remained of my humanity - told me that the light meant safety, civilization. It told me to run to the city so that Wulf didn't get me. I knew that was a stupid thing to think. If Wulf _wanted_ to get us, he would have gotten us by now. He was just playing with us.

It was a good thing that we no longer got tired. We sprinted without even faltering, Kamala, Jenna, Damsel, and I. Behind us was Wulf, bounding after us on all fours, his every movement pounding hard against the pavement. A few cars darted right past us on the road, and I could see their heads turning. This was a _definite_ Masquerade violation. We needed to end this and quick or else the Prince will undoubtedly be on my case.

"Al, move to the left!" Damsel said quickly. She was a bit faster than me, so she ran a few feet ahead. I saw her take a freaking grenade off of her tactical belt.  
I did exactly that. She pulled the pin from the grenade and threw it back. Quickly, I took off my coat and threw it up into the air. "_Protego!_" I said.

My coat began to expand, forming a wall behind Jenna, who was behind Kamala and I. When the grenade exploded, I heard metallic pelting as the shrapnel from the explosive hit my enchanted coat, shielding us from the blast. We stopped running. I didn't hear Wulf on the other side. Did a grenade really take care of him? Well, it _was_ an explosive, and fire is a pretty big deal to kindred. Maybe we managed to make semi-clean work of this after all.

The shield I'd created shrank and, as if guided by an invisible set of hands, allowed me to put my arms through the sleeves. I saw a huge spot of burnt gunpowder where the grenade exploded. This was futile, but hoped that this wouldn't be on the news or anything. It was unlikely that anyone managed to record footage of this fight - and if they did, it was likely that it wasn't very _good_ footage - but there was no doubt that the few cars driving by us were going to the police with the story of the crazy people fighting a gorilla-panther-scorpion thing.

"Seems like that took care of it." Kamala said, pulling an uzi out of nowhere like she had with her sword earlier. "But stay on guard. Gangrel have methods of hiding available to them."

She just _had_ to say that. Just when I thought we had taken care of it…

I turned on Auspex to see if I could detect anything. In the distance, there was a small ripple in the dirt off the road, as if it were water. The ripples grew larger and moved forward, creating a trail. With my enhanced senses, I picked up Wulf's hulking visage swimming through the ground like it was completely natural. He came to us so quickly that he popped out of the ground before I knew it. The grenade didn't take him down, but it sure hurt him badly. Practically half of his body was burnt to a crisp and his eyes were wide and wild, like he'd gone mad. My heart dropped when I realized the attack made him go into a frenzy, and all four hundred odd pounds of muscle, claws, and teeth he had? Now that was under the control of a monster more ancient than the asphalt on this road.

He pounced towards us with unnatural grace for his size. Jenna was in the way. I expected her to make like a thin-blood and _run_, but she stood her ground and, man, she looked _pissed._ She held out both of her hands and an invisible force caught Wulf in mid-air. I was in awe as she suspended him for a few seconds, visibly straining as she tried to take his weight. Then she slammed him down to the ground, gritting her teeth. She had him practically flattened, with his limbs splayed out to his sides.

"B-Bind him, god damn it!" Jenna roared. "Now! He's f-fucking heavy!"

Kamala acted first. She put her gun back in whatever pocket dimension she'd gotten it from and used some discipline - presumably Protean - to grow claws. Cutting her wrists, she held out her hands and let a few drops of vitae fall to the ground. I felt the silent thrum of power as her vitae thickened and flew over to Wulf as fast as a bullet, gathering and clotting into large bands that stuck to him like adhesive. Jenna finally released him and the Gangrel immediately began struggling. The sounds he made were straight up inhuman: growling and snarling, like he was completely gone.

"Well...this is a _massive_ Masquerade violation." I muttered.

"All the reason to kill it _quickly._" Kamala said. "Neonate, if you'll please."

I wanted to make a snappy remark about how I wasn't her servant or anything, but I didn't feel like arguing. I took my axe out of my leather bag and moved carefully towards Wulf. Of course, before I managed to behead him, he broke free from his bonds. Kamala moaned out in pain as her will was overpowered by Wulf's brute strength. The vitae holding him down turned into a thin liquid as he got up, towering over me so much that I had to lift my head all the way back to look him in the eyes. That wasn't something I had to do often.

I activated Celerity and fucking vamoose'd, creating quite a few feet worth of distance between us before he managed to act. A car darted past us but Wulf moved his arm faster than anyone had the right to, grabbing onto the back of the car before it passed him. The car's tires screeched as the driver tried to keep going, but Wulf's talons were embedded deep into the metal. It wasn't going anywhere. He activated Potence, the usually faint blue aura glowing as bright as a street light. He lifted the car, threw it right at me, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Jenna probably couldn't catch it with Mentalism. She looked spent already. Damsel was several feet away, and Kamala was still recovering from her spell being so forcefully broken.

Nobody was going to save me here. So I held my hands out, reaching deep inside for something - anything - that would save my ass.

Here's something you might not know: cars are heavy. And when I caught the car that Wulf threw, it was hard. It was back-breakingly, toe-curlingly, internal organs-liquefyingly hard. But I did it, and I couldn't believe I was. I activated Potence, because I knew that my arms would give out and the vehicle will crush me if I didn't do so. Wulf ran at me on all fours, and I met him halfway, bringing the car down on his head. Unfortunately, he caught it, and he was _much_ stronger than I was, bringing me down on my knees. The driver was out cold or perhaps dead, having suffered whiplash from Wulf grabbing his car.

Before Wulf could crush me, Damsel ran up with both Celerity and Potence activated. She leapt into the air and kicked the car, creating a dent in it large enough to crush it like a soda can and sending Wulf flying back several feet. Now destroyed car was going to drop on us, but Kamala stepped in just in time.

"_Langsom!"_ She cried out. I felt the subtle thrum of her will as her spell slowed the velocity of the car. It was fast enough for both of us to get from the bottom of it before it crashed down to the ground. Wulf hit the ground hard but recovered quickly. He was slick with his own vitae due to some of his burned skin coming off. He was taking a hell of a lot of punishment, and he didn't even have Fortitude activated!

"He's coming." Jenna warned. She took out a pistol, Kamala grabbed her uzi, and I tossed Damsel one of my guns before taking out my revolver. We opened fire on Wulf but it only seemed to slow him down. By the time we needed to reload, he had already crossed half of the way to us. Wulf activated Fortitude, which led to the next round of fire from us just bouncing off of him harmlessly. He charged at Jenna, moving faster than she could evidently react. I ran to step in the way but before I could, something intercepted so fast that I could barely see it, and the sound of a shotgun blast reverberated through the night. Wulf was floored.

Jack stood with his fist extended. He had claw marks all over his skin. His left eye was closed, and his beard was soaked in blood. He looked _pissed._ It took a few seconds, but I realized that shotgun sound wasn't a shotgun at all. It was his fucking fist.

"Want to mess with _my_ blood? Huh?!" Jack growled, his right eye wide like a madman. "Get up. _Get up!"  
_  
Jenna, Kamala, Damsel, and I watched in awe as Wulf got up. He growled like a hungry lion and attacked Jack, swiping his claw in a wide arc. Jack moved faster than I'd seen anybody moved, blocking the swipe and countering with a haymaker so hard that Wulf's body _rippled._ His fist had gone so deep into that wall of fur and flesh that I thought it was going to pierce right through him, but all that happened is Wulf was sent flying back a few feet. Jack wasn't showing any mercy. He sped up to the Gangrel and grabbed his feline head, slamming it into the pavement repeatedly, cracking it with the sheer force.

Eventually, Wulf stopped moving and Jack stopped pounding. He got up, took a deep breath, and cracked his neck as his wounds closed. I sensed the movement of vitae beneath his flesh, mending it and making him good as new. This seemed to give Wulf the opportunity to attack. He jumped up and pounced once again at Jack. Jack stood ready to attack, but instead came a loud, thundering sound. A light that came from a nearby vehicle approaching flashed on Wulf. It was what looked like a Vietnam War-era Jeep with a fucking minigun attached to it. In the driver's seat was one of the Anarchs we'd left behind. On the top of the car manning the gun was Skelter himself.

"Fucking animal!" He roared, shooting round upon round of bullets into Wulf. His Fortitude and blood heal couldn't keep up. The gun poked holes in him like he was made of swiss cheese, and finally he fell. The Jeep stopped driving and Skelter dropped off the back, taking out his own M16 and walking up to Wulf's broken body. With all of the cold professionalism of a soldier in combat, he shot Wulf clean between the eyes, dusting him right then and there.

"Everybody alright?" Skelter asked.

All things considered, everyone seemed to be okay. Kamala and Damsel looked like they were a little tired, and Jenna seemed absolutely spent. No doubt they'd be fine after feeding. I didn't feel quite drained yet, but I was sick of fighting the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle. The sun was going to rise in about five or six hours. Even though the job wasn't done, I did good enough tonight, and I didn't care who had to say anything about that.

"Yes." Kamala confirmed. "Everyone seems to be okay. What you had done was surprisingly honorable-"

Skelter gave her a look.

"...What I _mean_ to say is...thank you." She continued.

"I'm letting LaCroix know that Wulf is toast." Jack said, turning to Damsel. "You guys take care of Brother Kanker?"

"Yeah." She said. "I say we're done for the night. Let the other coteries do their fuckin' job."

"Amen to that." I see. "Jack, I'll talk to you tomorrow night. I got a few questions about things you might know about."

Jack nodded firmly. "See you then, kid. Jenna, let's go."

With that, we all headed back to LA. Once we were within city limits, we all parted ways, scurrying back to our havens with our own pieces of eternity.

* * *

"Heather, I'm back." I said once I entered the doors of my Haven. Nobody answered.

"...Heather?" I called out.

Heather wasn't here. That was unusual, because she didn't usually leave for school at this hour. In fact, if Heather ever leaves, it's usually to get a bite to eat or some movie from Blockbuster for us to watch. And even when she _does_ leave, it's never while I'm not home. She knows better than to do that. There had been a few cases of ghouls or other kindred seeking to steal Justine's grimoire. Since I'm not exactly good at animating things, I usually have Heather fight them off.  
But now? I couldn't smell her. I couldn't hear her heartbeat. Where was she?

I went upstairs to my computer to see if I could find a note. There _was_ a note, but it wasn't in her handwriting. Heather's handwriting was neat, pretty. This handwriting was too, but there were very noticeable differences like curlier j's and y's.

It read:

_Dear Algernon,_

_It is a shame I'd just missed you. With everything our Archbishop says about you, I just had to witness it myself. Our promising young fledgeling, destined to destroy the Camarilla. Your prince had sent a few innocent little flies into my web...I was hoping that he would send you. Alas, sometimes you have to get things yourself if you want it._

_I have your pet. Heather is her name, right? She looked so terrified before I'd dominated her. Come to my suite in the Empire Hotel. Perhaps I can show you both true pleasure._

_With love,  
Jezebel Locke_

I grit my teeth. It was too late for this shit. The sun was going to come up in about three hours. But this Jezebel person must've been a member of the Brotherhood. Why else would LaCroix be sending anyone after her? I had to get rid of her. Besides, she took Heather.  
_My_ Heather.

"Fuck's sake." I growled, going into my closet and restocking ammunition for my guns. If it was a fight she wanted, I'd sure as hell give her a fight.


	29. Epidemic 5-7

**A/N:** Hey guys! So a bit of an explicit content warning for this chapter. Considering that the fic is rated M, I'm assuming you guys are okay with it, but still a fair warning. Jezebel Locke is supposed to be a seductress and all, but I feel it isn't properly shown in the game - probably due to tech limitations back then. So my imagination takes front seat here.

Also, to answer one of you guys' question about whether or not Algernon is going to get a blood hunt called on him - I did keep that in mind when writing that scene, so we'll see ;)

As always, reviews are appreciated. Hope you enjoy! 

* * *

"_Okay, stupid question incoming."_

_Jack chuckled. "What else is new, kiddo?"_

_Before I asked my question, I aimed my gun at the empty glass bottle a few feet ahead of me. I managed to hit it dead in the center, sending fragments of glass in all directions. After me was Nines, who quietly aimed his revolver at the bottle. He, of course, hit it dead on. I was convinced Nines could hit the head of a needle dead on from several yards._

"_Psh. Thanks." I deadpanned. "My question is about disciplines."_"_Ah, this one should be easy." Jack said._"_What's the difference between Presence and Dominate?" I asked. "They seem to both have the same purpose. And I know - Dominate can only affect one person at a time, Presence is good for mass control. But is that really it?"_

_I heard Nines make a 'tsk' sound. Jack aimed his gun at the next bottle cap over, managing to hit it right at the tip. To my surprise, he wasn't that good of a shot. I wouldn't want to be in a fist fight with him though._

"_What's the difference between being someone's master and their lover?" Nines asked, glancing over to me. "You ever been in love?"_"_Yeah." I told him._"_Remember that feeling when they talk to you? I don't know about you, but it made me feel nervous." He explained. "I'd do anything to get their attention. To please them."_"_Not sure I'm getting it." I said._"_Presence is emotional manipulation, kid." Jack said. "Dominate is straight up puppeteering. You look 'em in the eyes, say a command, and they do it exactly like you tell 'em. Presence is a little different. You aren't controlling anyone. You're making them want to please you. Or you scare the hell out of 'em. With Dominate, you do what you're told because you're told. With Presence, you do it because they make you want to. And when someone questions you about it, you find a way to justify it. Shit, if they're really good at Presence, they can manipulate you without you knowing it. It could just be that you think they're a friend, or that you love them. That's some shit to look out for. It's why I don't really like those Ventrue fucks. Or the Toreador, for that matter."_

_As I aimed at the next object in the row - a teddy bear duct taped to a bottle of whisky - I thought about that. I was pretty decent at Dominate, decent enough to get what I wanted when I needed it, but it seemed like Presence was a lot scarier. What if I was being manipulated by LaCroix even though I didn't like him? He definitely had the balls to Dominate me a few nights back._

"_So it's something to look out for." I concluded._"_Everything is, kiddo." Jack said. "But Presence? Watch yourself. Those capes sure love usin' it. Me? I prefer to just ask. Or hurt them until they do what I say."_

_I fired at the teddy bear, hitting it center mass. My plan was to get it in the head, but that didn't quite go as planned._

"_Noted." I said._

* * *

The Empire Hotel was so fancy that it was sickening. As soon as I walked in I was treated to the sight of marble floors, exotic carpets, and furniture that didn't look like it was meant for sitting. Beside me was a greasy-looking security guard barely paying attention to everything. Upon closer inspection, I saw a strange, glazed-over look in his eyes. When I looked at him with Auspex, I saw the telltale signs of being affected by Presence: a gold-red aura around his head, quick breathing, slight fidgeting. It was as if someone had drugged him. A couple moved past me and out of the door, dressed to go clubbing even though the sun was damn near about to come up. They were affected by Presence too, according to my Auspex. I looked around and saw the gold-red auras surrounding the heads of pretty much everybody: the businessman doing a call in the corner, the woman sitting on the couch that was obviously a pricey escort, the sleazy-looking guy trying to flirt with her.

_Everyone_ was affected by Presence.

Dear Lord.

"May I help you?" The receptionist asked. He was a pale man with neat, combed over hair, possibly gay.

"I'm Algernon Blake." I said. "Is there a guest here named Jezebel Locke?"

"Yes, Miss Locke is one of our more...popular guests. Why do you ask?"

"She should be expecting me." I said. "I got a note from her."

The receptionist's expression turned quizzical, like I'd just told him a marginally funny joke. "Right. I've heard that one before, sir. I can't let you up, it's against hotel policy."  
I was about ready to tear his throat out. I didn't have much time. The sun would start rising in a few hours, and I wasn't going to leave Heather up there with that psychopath. What if she was already infected? I had half a mind to Dominate this guy, but between Jezebel's Presence and my Dominate, I didn't want to fry the guy's brain. I'd heard stories of kine that were controlled too much and they ended up going insane. That wasn't what I wanted, even if the guy was pissing me off.

So I resorted to intimidation. I moved so quickly that he didn't even have time to flinch, grabbing him by his expensive collar and pulling him halfway off the desk. Even though I was making a scene, everyone just watched me with that glazed over, docile look, as if they had just taken a shot of heroin. The receptionist, on the other hand, looked absolutely terrified.

"Give me a key to her fucking room." I growled. "Or I'll tear your tongue out. Got it?"

He nodded quickly, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. I released him and he brushed himself off, took a deep breath, and walked to the back room. When he got back, he reluctantly handed me the keys.

"What room?" I asked.

"148, s-sir." The receptionist stammered.

I flashed him a wordless grin and left the lobby.

Once I exited the lobby, the effects of Jezebel's Presence became more obvious. It was as if I'd stepped out of my reality and into a new one, that new reality being Jeanette Voerman's wet dream. The doors were wide open with people having...er...relations in their rooms. There were at least fifty people fucking in the open, the sound of their wet flesh colliding only being dwarfed by the sound of their coughing. As I got deeper and deeper into the hotel, it became more disgusting and debaucherous. Some people were having sex with dead bodies, and some people were dying of whatever plague the Brotherhood was spreading right as they climaxed.

They all watched me as I passed, more animal than human. Their moans and growls were primal and lurid, and even though I was looking right at them, they continued onwards. The pungent smell of sweat, blood, and arousal filled the air, calling my Beast in ways I didn't really want to admit. I couldn't tell if this was the Beast's urges or the effect of Presence, but I had gotten the urge to participate in the debauchery, drain and fuck and kill whoever I wanted, whenever. What would stop me? They definitely couldn't. These halls were full of rich fucks that were too busy rolling around in their own cum to do anything about it.

I stopped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Mentally, I wrestled with my Beast, shoving it back into its cage. Doing this was getting a lot easier, but the Beast was getting more demanding. In the back of my head, I felt a tingling, nervous feeling. My body could sense the impending sunrise, and it was telling me to get the hell out of there and into the deepest hole I could find. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 3:54am. Summer was nearly over, but the sun was still going to rise fairly early. I reminded myself that every second I wasted standing still was another second I risked rotschreck.

Things had somehow gotten more wild as I went deeper into the halls. Paintings were torn down, people were going at it like animals. Men were pounding anything in sight, and women were openly masturbating. I awkwardly stepped over one of the women squirting on the floor and screaming like a banshee as I reached what had to be Jezebel's room. I grabbed my double-barrel shotgun out of my bag and unlocked the door, but for some reason it was still stuck. Activating Potence, I knocked on the door right off of its hinges, aiming the gun forward.

Jezebel was sitting in a chair, completely naked. Heather was on her knees in front of her, also naked, resting her head on her lap. Despite my noisy entrance, it didn't seem to disturb either of them. To say Jezebel was attractive was an understatement. I didn't know if she was Ventrue or Toreador, but she was more attractive than many members of the latter clan I'd seen. She looked like a painting, her skin pale and her short, wavy hair red as a ripe apple. Her eyes were a blue so deep and hypnotic that I found myself spacing out when I looked into them. Her figure was more full and curvaceous than Heather's, with well-defined muscle in the right places. Undoubtedly, she looked the best without clothes on.

As soon as I saw her, I lost the will to fight her. All of my urgency and anger had washed away as if taken by the ocean. Every part of me just wanted to crawl on all fours and lay my head on her lap like Heather. The only reason I didn't do that was because of that savage part of me - the Beast - urging me to decapitate her in a very glorious way for stealing Heather away from me. That savage call grounded me, prevented me from giving into whatever weird passions that Jezebel inspired within me. I gripped my shotgun tight.

"Oh yeah!" Jezebel spoke, gazing up at me with a smile that made me feel I needed a cold shower. Her voice was sultry and feminine and everything I wanted to hear. "I presume you'd gotten my note?"

Speaking took more effort than usual. "Of course. You have something of mine."

"Ah, yes…" She said, her gaze turning down to Heather. She began to pet her, and Heather released a moan that implied something more than petting was going on. The way Jezebel had her all docile pissed me - or rather, my Beast - off more than I could've imagined. "What a pretty little toy you have here. She has an excellent...mouth."

"Shut the fuck up." I snapped.

"Tell me...are you a believer, little morsel?" She asked, ignoring me. "Have you come wandering to my web, seeking the kind of enlightenment Jezebel can give you?"  
What the fuck? Was she hit with Dementation or something?

"No." I said as firmly as I could manage. "I'm here for my pet. Let her go. We can settle whatever you want to settle tomorrow night. The sun is almost up."

She seemed entirely unconcerned with that. "I have such things to show you, Mr. Blake...such beautiful, dirty little things. Things I'd shown your dear Heather...won't you come to me?"

I wanted to. I _really_ wanted to, but I knew I couldn't. It seemed that my Beast was the only thing keeping me sane here, ironically.

"Did you infect her?" I demanded, or at least try to. My voice didn't sound too authoritative.

"Ah, no...I would never do such a thing without you here." Jezebel said, her expression turning into a wicked smirk. "Heather herself said that she wants you here to experience it. Isn't that correct, dear?"

Suddenly, Heather was aware of her surroundings. She looked up at me, her face flushed, her eyes half-lidded. I wanted to take her right then and there, take her in every way you could possibly imagine.

"Come to us, please." She pleaded. "It feels so...nice. Her touch, and her voice...I don't know if I can live without her. It's like when I'm with you...please."

Before I gave into the urge, the Beast was stronger than ever, expressing itself in my mind _vocally._

_Tear the bitch apart._

It growled. _Show her what happens when it takes what is yours._For once, I had to agree. But not yet. I needed to assess the situation, find out what Jezebel was capable of. I needed to find out why the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle decided to come to LA in the first place. They definitely weren't your average Sabbat. They were smart, deliberate, and very fucking hard to kill. The Sabbat were animals, these people were serial killers.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, distancing myself from Jezebel as much as I could. I'd noticed seconds ago that I was subconsciously moving towards her, so instead I moved to the furthest corner in the room. I kept my gun pointed at Jezebel in case she decided to do anything other than pet Heather.

"Our reasons are simple…" Jezebel said. "We wish to spread our death and disease so that we can ascend to the Ninth Circle of Hell. We are the enlightened, join us. Indulge in your animal instincts until you lie spent on the altar. Desire will be your truth, desire and the death that follows!"

She was absolutely demented. I narrowed my eyes and asked, "Who is leading you?"

"Our Bishop Vick." She told me. "And our Archbishop had given us the permission to spread our enlightenment in this city."

Archbishop. That's what the Sabbat equivalent of a Prince was. This entire time, both the Camarilla and the Anarchs alike assumed that the Sabbat weren't being directed by anyone. We assumed they were just loosely affiliated packs, banging their heads and beating their chest like complete morons. Now I knew that an intelligence was guiding them. This would be useful information.

"Who is your Archbishop?" I asked.

Jezebel smiled wordlessly. I could tell that she had no intention of telling me. She was smarter than she seemed. I noticed how her eyes became wider, her breathing more ragged. Her hunger shone in her eyes, but displayed upon her body like intense arousal. My desire turned into stress, suddenly. I was pushed into a fight-or-flight reaction. Evidently, Heather felt the same way, because she screamed, scrambling away from Jezebel as quickly as she possibly could, curling up on her blood-soaked bed. Jezebel Locke stood up from her chair, sultry and predatory like a black widow about to drain her mate.

"I cannot control my hunger any longer!" She wailed, her body hunching over like an animal. "Come! The truth will be shown to you as I drink the blood from your twice-lifeless body. Oh, it will be ecstasy - oh ecstasy, little morsel! Sweet ecstasy!"

Just like that, all semblance of calm in the situation was gone. Everything erupted into chaos. As she pounced at me, I could hear terrified cries and screams from the poor victims outside, as if they were scared and in pain. Jezebel grabbed a bloodied bowie knife from the stand by her chair and pounced at me. I was ready, but I felt distracted, unable to move in the sheer terror she provoked in me. She grabbed me by the collar and lifted me, slamming me down to the ground and straddling me. Like a python, she snapped forward and I barely managed to stop her with my shotgun. I used it to hold her back, but she was much stronger than she looked. She lifted her knife and bought it down on my chest, getting me right in my no longer beating heart. I screamed in pain, which seemed to bring Heather back to reality.

"A-Algernon?!" She asked, her voice faint and airy, as if she'd just woken up.

"Heather!" I called to her. "A little help!"

"No, stay there, little pet." Jezebel compelled her, her voice a low growl. "I merely wish to show your master true pleasure."

"That isn't what she wants to do at all!" I protested, attempting to kick Jezebel off of me. It felt like trying to kick a brick wall. God damn it, why does _everyone_ have Fortitude?!

"A-Algernon...I can't…" Heather mumbled. "I'm...I'm confused…"

Jezebel was pretty skilled at Presence, but I had a blood bond with Heather. I could feel her at all times if I focused, and I knew she could feel me. She was drawn to me like a moth to a light. That had to be worth something. It _had_ to be stronger than whatever Jezebel was doing. So I focused, focused on her, on our bond. I felt my vitae within her, felt her voice buried beneath Jezebel's web. I called out to her and she answered.

Heather pounced so quickly that it was inhuman. She was fast, just as fast as Jenna. Jezebel clearly wasn't expecting to be slammed against the wall by a ghoul all juiced up on Potence. I knew it would only last as long as Jezebel's surprise did, so I had to act quickly. I got up and Heather swung Jezebel by her hair towards me. Using my shotgun like a baseball bat, I sent Jezebel flying into a wall so hard that she bounced off of it. Blood poured out of her mouth, but she got up quickly, charging at Heather this time. Activating Celerity, I stepped in front of Heather before Jezebel even took her second step and shot her right in her midsection, sending her flying through the window.

The window shattered as she fell onto the balcony. Beams of early sunlight came through the window, forcing me to take cover. I wasn't quick enough and ended up getting burned on the arm, but I didn't get the worst of it. The one who got the worst of it was Jezebel herself, who screamed an ugly, blood-curdling cry as she was exposed to the sun. I saw Heather's terrified look, and the sight of Jezebel burning reflected on her glasses.

"NO!" She screamed. "NOT NOW! NOT YET!"

I almost felt sympathy as the sun burned her away, leaving her as nothing but ash. Staying in the shadows, I hid from the sun as best as I could, but the effects of rotschreck were beginning. I wanted to run, to hide, but I knew that if I left the building, I'd end up just like Jezebel. Heather ran towards me, embracing me. The feeling was strangely calming, comforting. It was like the assurance of getting back what was mine was soothing the Beast.

"Algernon…" She said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. S-She just came and I-I...I opened the door for her and she was so…"

"We can talk about this later." I said quickly. "Just...stay here. Please."

"But-"

"_Shh…"_ I said, caressing her cheek. "We're safe now. I need to sleep until the sun sets. Just stay."

"Okay…" Heather said meekly, resting her head on my shoulder.

This feeling was strange. Alien. It wasn't love - I don't know if I can feel love anymore - but it's like it. The feeling was like...regaining a piece of myself that I'd lost. An anchor to my humanity. For the first time that night, I didn't feel like a monster.


	30. Epidemic 5-8

**A/N:** This arc is almost over, guys! Next chapter is the end. The next arc, Algernon will be going to Grout's mansion and entering Hollywood, so stay tuned for that.

In this chapter, Algernon learns a bit more about Golconda. If Justine's actions are making less and less sense to you, good :P

Thanks for reading. Reviews and feedback is always appreciated! 

* * *

"Is this the place?" Heather asked, stopping her car right in front of the Tremere chantry.

"Yep." I confirmed, gazing out the window.

"I've never noticed a building here before."

"That's by design. Hey, wait here. I'll just be a few minutes."

I exited the car and entered the Chantry. You may be wondering what planned on doing. With one more member of the Brotherhood out there, surely there wasn't any time to waste. The thing is, I was done with being played, pushed around like I was someone's pawn. Ever since the day my heart started beating, I felt like I was dancing to someone else's tune. But now I had information, and information was powerful if offered to the correct person.

Strauss' study looked exactly the same as the last time I'd visited. It was like the study itself was as eternal as he was. I didn't know how old Strauss was, and frankly I didn't want to know. Presumably his age was in the triple-digits, being an elder himself. Both him and LaCroix held a danger about them, but it wasn't like Jack's. Their feel wasn't wild and chaotic, but rather controlled and subtle. It always seemed like they were in control of the situation. With how type A they both were, I imagined there was quite a bit of a clash between them.

That's exactly why I decided to come to Strauss. Besides hating LaCroix's undead guts, I figured that I would have more to gain by giving Strauss the info I'd managed to get from Jezebel. He would at least offer me something in return, whereas LaCroix would just demand it - and possibly force me to give it to him. I was done working for free. I'd already proven myself by blowing up the warehouse. It was time to start playing the game.

"Algernon." Strauss said once I'd entered his study. "Your presence is...unexpected, neonate. But welcome."

I nodded. "I've learned a few things that you may like to know."

He raised his eyebrows but his expression remained otherwise neutral. "Oh?"

"Yep. I know why the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle attacked so suddenly." I said. "I can tell you. For a price."

The Tremere Regent's lips pressed into a thin line. I could tell he was intrigued.

"And why are you sharing this information with me instead of our Prince?" He asked.

"With all due respect, he's a jackass."

Strauss crossed his arms. "Though I do not always agree with the Prince's decisions, neonate, it would be unwise to speak badly about him in this establishment. He is still your elder."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. This was the type of guy to not bring outside food into a movie theater. Was I going to be this rigid when I got his age? God, I hope not.

"Right. My apologies." I said. "What I mean to say is that I think I have more to gain from giving the information to you than to him."

"And the Anarchs?" He'd asked. "Rumor has it that you are quite friendly with them. Why do you not spread this information to them?"

"I'm not an Anarch. But I won't go around making enemies. They help me out from time to time. I listen to their soapbox speeches. That's all."

Strauss nodded slowly. I could see the gears turning in his head; I already felt like he was a few steps ahead of me. He stayed silent, presumably thinking of a way to get what he wanted from me with as little cost as possible to him. This was probably common when speaking to kindred that had been playing this game for a couple of centuries.

"What do you want to return?" He asked, finally.

"I want more information on Justine." I said. "Why did she join the Sabbat? What's Golconda?"

"You tread very dangerous waters, neonate. I'd ask for other knowledge to gain if I were you."

"I'm serious. Tell me or I walk."

Maximilian Strauss frowned. I could tell that he was resisting the urge to just pull the information from my mind - either that or wrestling with his beast. There was no way I was going to risk a fight with him. I was pretty sure that Kamala could kick my ass despite our strength differences, and this guy was every bit as strong as me - perhaps stronger - and more experienced. He knew things that I didn't know. I was still figuring out how this whole Thaumaturgy thing worked. Justine's book helped, but I still couldn't access the totality of her power. Strauss had been slinging spells for centuries, probably. He could turn me into ash with his mind alone.

"...So be it." He said. "What do you wish to know about your Sire?"

"I want to know what Golconda is. Why she was interested in it, and why it required her to join the Sabbat." I told him.

"I'm afraid I can only answer one of those questions, and make an educated guess at the others." He began. "Golconda is a mythical - and, I emphasize _mythical_ \- state of being perpetuated by the soul-stealing Salubri to lure people to them so that they can conduct their infernalist rituals. It posits that, by merely feeling remorse, a kindred may enter a state of balance with their Beast and no longer become subject to its urges."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Nonsense is what it means." Strauss said matter-of-factly. "If Golconda so-called 'scholars' are to be believed, a vampire in Golconda can walk out into the sun, eat food, and feed merely once a week."

"And Justine was interested in this?"

"Who told you she was?"

I didn't want to tell on Kamala. All things considered, she showed herself to be a fairly decent person last night. And I didn't know what would happen if Strauss found out that she leaked confidential information. A hyper-hierarchical organization like the Tremere probably had some pretty harsh punishments for even the slightest deviation from the rules.

"I'd heard it. Rumors." I said. "Judging by how you're reacting, it's right on the nose."

Once again, Strauss' lips pressed into a thin line. "Justine was a talented mage. She was always interested in more...alternative knowledge than what our organization offered. That is something she shared in common with her Sire, Hassan. He had entered the Tremere from another House, and he'd bought his non-standard practices with him. I'd expected him to defect to the Sabbat before she did."

So Justine wanted to achieve Golconda. The way Strauss explained it, this was obviously something that didn't exist. Was she that desperate to free herself from this curse? It wasn't like I couldn't understand that. Being a vampire wasn't exactly great. I didn't enjoy having to suck blood and do people's bidding like some undead minion, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I just figured that I had to carry this existential baby to term.

"So...that's it?" I asked. "She joined the Sabbat to chase some fairytale? That's it?"

"That is the leading theory, yes." Strauss said, his tone final. "Quite a foolish move on her part. I expected something more from her."

No, I thought. Something didn't seem right here. If Justine was obsessed with this Golconda thing, which involves being at balance with the Beast, why would she join a sect that is obsessed with letting the Beast rule them? Not only that, but she explicitly told me _not_ to trust the Sabbat. There was a piece missing here. Her actions made less and less sense the more I thought about them.

So close and yet so far. I thought I'd finally get the truth from Strauss, but all I have now is more questions. Disappointment bubbled within my stomach, dragging my mood down. I wished that she was here to guide me, to explain what was going on. It made me feel weak and pathetic, but I really needed her around, that girl I knew for all of five hours. She'd changed everything for me, and now she just up and dies.

The Regent looked at me expectantly. I remembered that I had to hold up my end of the deal.

"Sorry." I mumbled. "When I encountered Jezebel Locke, she told me that an Archbishop gave the Brotherhood the permission to operate in LA. She wouldn't tell me who he was, but...it seems the Sabbat here are more organized than we'd originally thought."

"Interesting indeed." Strauss said, rubbing his chin. "And this is all of the information you'd gotten?"

I nodded. He looked dissatisfied. I'd gotten a tiny bit of vindictive satisfaction out of the thought that I was leaving him with more questions and half-answers as well. Maybe it wasn't fair. Strauss wasn't exactly anything resembling a nice guy, but he was at least helpful and fair. That's more than I can say for the other Camarilla members I'd met.

"Very well." He said. "Do you need anything else?"

My phone vibrated before I could answer. I'd gotten a text from Damsel.

"Nope. Duty calls." I said. "Gotta report to the Prince."

* * *

Kamala and Damsel waited for me in the lobby of LaCroix's building. Damsel looked more pissed than usual, staring down at her flip phone impatiently. Kamala stood there quietly, her arms crossed in a guarded and neutral pose. When I entered the building, Kamala glanced over at me and relaxed a tiny fraction. Damsel didn't take her eyes off of her phone.

"Where were you?" Kamala asked.

"Chatting with our Regent." I said. "It was a private matter. LaCroix wants to see us?"

She nodded. "The Prince wants to hear about our progress. I'm sure he will be pleased."

"Hopefully. Maybe he'll even say 'thank you' this time." I deadpanned.

Kamala gave me a displeased look and I raised my hands. Damsel let out an audible growl. For a moment, it looked like she was going to throw her phone on the floor.

"Fucking piece of shit!" She said.

"Woah there." I said. "Calm down. Don't want to frenzy in the lobby."

Damsel sneered at me. "Fuck you, Cammy!"

"We've been over this." I said. "I'm not part of the Camarilla."

"What's wrong, Damsel?" Kamala asked. "We cannot help if you yell at us."

Damsel took a moment to calm down, and I could just _tell_ that was a battle.

"Nines disappeared." She said. "Usually he answers my calls, but now he isn't picking up. I swear to fuck, if he's dead I'm going right down to hell and kicking his ass."

"It's Nines. He isn't dead." I said. "I'm sure there's a reason he isn't answering."

"There fucking better be." Damsel snarled.

"Let's just go up." Kamala said. "I don't want to be late for our appointment."

Another coterie of vampires was walking out of the suite just as we'd entered. LaCroix looked pleased for once, at least marginally; he didn't look like he was nursing a migraine like he did whenever I came inside. I couldn't tell if that was because he was stressed or because he didn't like me. Either way, I didn't care.

"Ms. Al-Fasi." LaCroix said, greeting our leader. "You bring good news, I presume?"

"Of course, my Prince. I am always happy to deliver." Kamala said. "Brother Kanker has been neutralized. Wulf has also been neutralized."

"Yes, I'd heard from Jack." LaCroix said.

"And Jezebel Locke." I added. "She's been neutralized too."

Everyone in the room looked at me.

"_You_ took down Jezebel Locke?" LaCroix asked. "Unbelievable. I'd sent many of my best agents to assassinate her, and they ended up lost in that blasted building. The few that had managed to come back say that they lost their minds as soon as they entered."

I shrugged. "Yeah? I didn't. She had something of mine. Had to get it back."

"Why didn't you call us?" Kamala scolded. "You are _not_ to face a member of the Brotherhood alone."

"There was no time. The sun was coming up shortly. I just went in and out."

Everyone was silent.

"...Well, with Peabody, Wulf, Locke, Kanker, and Rowena having met final death," LaCroix said, breaking the silence. "That only leaves Bishop Vick. The leader. I had sent Nines on this mission, but he hasn't yet reported back to me."

"Is there anything further you wish for us to do?" Kamala asked.

"Yes, actually." LaCroix said. "There is a plaguebearer in Santa Monica, a childe that had been Sired by Wulf that had been going on a rampage. I want you to take care of them. Therese's people are still dealing with the aftermath of the chaos Peabody had caused."

"Understood, Your Majesty." Kamala said, bowing her head.

"You are dismissed." The Prince said. "Except for you, Algernon. I wish to speak with you. Privately."

"Wh-"

Before I could finish my sentence, I heard Damsel's phone ringing. LaCroix gave her an annoyed look, which she vindictively ignored, answering it right in front of him.

"Hello?"

She went silent. The voice on the other side was barely audible, but I noticed the sound of panic anywhere. Damsel's eyes widened.

"O-Okay, we'll be right there! Just stay on the phone with me." Damsel said. "Hey? Nines? Where are- damn it!"

The dull tone of a lost signal could be heard from the phone. She closed it and was absolutely _seething.  
_  
"We're going." She said. "All of us. _Now."  
_  
"Excuse me?" LaCroix asked. "I had given you all orders. It is in your interest to fo-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Damsel snapped. "Nines located Bishop Vick. He's stuck in his fucking headquarters now. If we save him, we can take Vick down. Do you fucking care now!"

LaCroix _paled._ I could tell he wasn't used to such forceful disobedience. He was starting to get angry, but before he could, Damsel got in his face.

"Just what I fucking thought, you cape piece of shit!" She shouted. "We. Are. Going. Now."

And then she stormed off, out of the suite. Kamala shot a concerned look to the Prince, who took a deep breath.

"Why are you looking at me?" He demanded. "After her!"

And so we went after her. In no way was I thrilled to go after someone that is strong enough to trap Nines, but he stuck his neck out for me quite a few times. I owed him one.


	31. Update

Hey guys!

Sorry there hasn't been a chapter in a while, and unfortunately there won't be a chapter today. That doesn't mean I'm completely dropping the story, it just means I'm putting it on a bit of a hiatus until I really feel like writing V:TM anymore. Currently I've moved on to other projects.

Speaking of other projects, I figured it'd be wise to let you guys know about this since I've already kinda got an audience here, but I'm working on a web serial novel! I'll be posting chapters to that story every Friday. If you still wish to support my writing or read anything I put out, I recommend reading it! It's a superhero story where I'll explore many similar themes of corruption that I'm exploring in Turning Teeth. You can read chapter one by copy/pasting this link without any spaces:

the astralverse. blogspot p/root-1 - 1. html

Again, I'm sorry that there's no chapter here, or for probably a while. I do promise I will work on Turning Teeth as soon as inspiration comes back to me.

Regards,  
thebrillaintgrandmaster


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